#i was like did i hallucinate his shirt being a different colour
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Biker Book Club
Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen
Pairing: Biker!Sukuna Ryoumen x Reader
MASTERLIST
A/N: So I wrote a smut and here's something to tide people over whilst I'm working on Part 3 of my Choso series. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! Follow, comment or reblog, IDC because I enjoy writing this fic. Please pay attention before reading.
NO UNDER 18s 🔞
WARNING: Smut, Explicit Sex, Cowgirl, Blowjob, Fingering, Use of Lube, Almost unprotected sex, Use of Protection, Slight Choking, Gagging, Slight dominance, Swearing, Talk of sex, Loss of Virginity, talks of cunnilingus and face sitting, cum eating
This wasn't where he expected to find his next good fuck but somehow he found you. He noticed you sitting at a beanbag in the library. Your glasses were pushed right up your face.
Even the way you were dressed was getting to him as he took in your black straight jeans and matching woolly turtleneck. You were reading a book with an interesting cover, it had skulls and thorns with cursive that made it difficult for him to guess the title.
What drew him to notice you was the way your face was deadpanned, almost looking uninterested in what you were reading. Why continue reading a book you're uninterested in? Your legs were crossed over and you had white headphones covering your ears, probably blocking all the sound.
He came here to look for Geto and Gojo, apparently he needed to go over details for the gig they were being security detail for. The two of them were meant to be in the library for some college assignment. Sukuna stood out with his facial tattoos and black leather jacket.
Right now, he wanted you to warm his bed tonight, you seemed like the type of girl who liked to be wined and dined which wasn't so bad as long as he got to use them however he wanted. Rolling back his shoulders, eyes locked on target, he stepped towards you.
You were feeling hot under the collar as you read your book and followed along the words with your audio book. It was embarrassing reading this in your library but lately your parents weren't allowing you any privacy. They felt that you stayed indoors too much thus you went to the library to prove that you did go out.
You were a grown woman who should be allowed to do what she wanted but you worked a retail job whilst being rejected for different jobs as an admin assistant. Apparently they didn't want to hire an inexperienced graduate which made no sense.
You were stuck to reading smutty books in libraries and working inhumane hours for minimum pay. The book you were reading currently involved a tall tattooed biker that fell for the mayor's daughter and it was hot as hell. Currently you were listening/reading about them getting hot and heavy in the mayor's office during a party.
You were just getting to the bit where the biker was going down on his knees when something tapped you on your knee which made you drop your book, phone and headphones. You let out a short scream but shut up quickly when you realised that you were in a library.
The first thing you saw were black laced boots, nicely polished before trailing up to ripped black jeans. Your eyes went up to a white form fitting t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. He had pink hair with a black undercut which was an interesting colour in comparison to his attire.
For a moment you thought you were hallucinating and the biker from your book had somehow come to life. However the facial tattoos reminded you that it wasn't the male lead, this person was actually standing in front of you.
Sukuna found it cute the way you were reacting to him, shocked like he caught you doing something nasty. Although, it didn't take him much to realise that you probably were as he picked up your book, headphones and phone to hand back to you. He took a look at the title and snorted.
"What the hell kinda book is this?"
You crossed your eyebrows as you folded your arms expecting him to return your things. You stood up, but suddenly felt a little nervous at the fact that this man was a whole foot taller than you.
"It's an action book about a biker."
That wasn't a whole lie, the book involved a biker and a lot of actions. Just more of the sexual type but she wasn't going to explicitly say what the book was to a total random stranger. Especially one that looked like a handsome jerk.
"An action book?"
"Yes, why?"
He shrugged, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.
"Why are you reading it if it looks boring?"
You frown as you look at the book cover. It was far from boring. What did he even mean by that but he answered your question.
"It's just, I came in looking for some people … I noticed you looking bored while you were reading."
It took a second before you made an 'oh'. Sometimes reading smut made your face go straight, especially if it was written in a generic formula. You pursed back a smile as you put your hand out to ask for your book.
"Well, I was reading a very important scene and wanted to focus."
Sukuna didn't really believe you as he opened the book, flicking to where your bookmark was. With a quick scan of the page you were on, he noticed an interesting word which made him quirk an eyebrow at you, which made you realise that his eyebrows were pierced.
"Important scene, huh? So you don't mind if I read that?"
Your eyes widened as you lunged forward to grab your book. You don't know how much he saw but you weren't going to let him find out more. Sukuna was quicker as he swung his arm to raise the book above his head as he tutted.
"Ah, ah ah! Mind if I read, Rosy?"
"It's not your kind of book."
"Maybe it is, Rosy, what would you know?"
"You haven't even read the book from the start! You're not gonna understand a thing if you start from the middle."
"So what? I just wanna know why this is such an important scene."
You scoffed as you dropped your hands to your hips. You couldn't believe this guy. Sukuna smirked as he glanced up at the title page, you were clearly hiding something about this book.
"'Sides, why are you reading about a biker?"
"Because they're interesting."
"You ever met one, Rosy?"
"Pft … where would you find one?"
There was a smug grin on Sukuna's face as he spread his arms to gesture at himself, answering your question which made your eyes widen. The coincidence was creepy but Sukuna almost laughed at the reaction on your face.
"You're a biker?"
"Yup but that's a part time hobby. I run a security company, lending out freelance security guards to events and people."
You nod and he brings a hand out to introduce himself. Sukuna was his name, it was interesting and even Sukuna found your name nice to repeat on his tongue but he liked the nickname he gave, Rosy. He had you on the hook, all he needed to do was to line and then reel in.
"So, Rosy, did you happen to see two tall guys: one with a dark black ponytail and the other with white hair and sunglasses?"
You scratch your head as you think back, shaking your head. Sukuna looks at your book one more time before finally handing it back to you, along with your headphones and phone. He was gonna get you in his bed tonight as he exhaled.
"I see. By the way, are you doing anything tonight?"
You deadpanned at the fact that Sukuna was cocky enough to ask what you were doing. You weren't that easy although this has been a literal dream. He was probably a red flag in disguise as you amuse his ask.
"Why? You plan to ask me out on a date?"
"Well a certain someone won't let me read this important scene without reading the whole book so I want you to read the book to me. Think of it as a … what's that thing those housewives do where they read a book together?"
"A book club?"
"Yeah, Rosy, a book club. We'll have our own little book club."
Sukuna was amused as he watched you make several confused expressions, looking at him, the book cover and the pages.
"What?"
"Come on, Rosy-"
"Why are you calling me, Rosy?"
"I promise, you'll have a good night. All we'll do is read your book. What have you got to lose?"
It wasn't much and this was a good opportunity for you to get out of the house like your mother wanted. You tapped your toe, looking down before looking back up at his face. He was persistent for sure and as long as you held out your temptation to dive in, you'll have an interesting night.
"No funny business?"
Sukuna wanted to snort at the fact that that was a total lie but he straightened his posture and raised his hand to show his fingers weren't crossed.
"No funny business, Rosy. So your place or mine for our book club?"
"Yours."
This was too easy as Sukuna took your phone out of your hands, he unlocked it and typed a few things before handing it back to you. You looked as he saved his number as 'Sukuna' with a skull emoji.
"Send me a text with your address when you're ready and I'll pick you up, in the full biker fit and motorcycle. Don't forget your book."
Without letting you say another word, Sukuna walked off leaving you confused yet lowkey excited at the fact that you were probably going on a date of your fantasies.
It took you half an hour to get home, your parents were still at work so you went up to your room to change. You were going to wear your plainest most unattractive clothes which was a white button up and a long lilac coloured skirt with a nice silver necklace and earrings.
He surely wouldn't be aroused by these clothes as you pack your bag with your book. You look at your phone, hesitating to send the text. You could just not go … he seemed like a conceited douchebag. But he promised an interesting night and heck he might end up being a highlight in your boring miserable life.
You sent the message and not long after you hear your phone ping with his response that he'll be at yours in twenty. This was plenty of time, you took this moment to ponder on your thoughts. You couldn't make your mind up as you were interrupted by intrusive thoughts begging you to sleep with him.
You didn't know much about him and he seemed like the type of guy that had one night stands. You didn't want to be a conquest. Plus you didn't know if he was good in bed. The cocky ones were usually all talk no bark. You had a sneaking suspicion that he maybe was good in bed.
A loud roar sound from outside, this made you jump as you rushed to your window to see who had a lion only for you to notice Sukuna outside your front door with his motorcycle. That was embarrassing as Sukuna caught your eye in the window and waved.
It was time to go as you took a few quick breaths, going down and sending a text to your mother before you stepped out of your front door, locking the house and walking to the tattooed biker who was leaning against the seat of his parked motorcycle. He was still in the same clothes as before and he did not shy away from looking you up and down.
"You look nice, Rosy. Didn't know you had more colours in your wardrobe."
"I see you didn't change."
"Of course not. We're doing a book club. I'll dress nice when we have our first date."
He winked at you which made you huff before he reached around the right side of the motorcycle to hand you a black coloured helmet. You turned it around your hands in surprise as he then pulled out a red helmet for himself, sitting it on his head and lifting the visor up to look at you.
"What's the matter?"
"I didn't expect you to have a helmet."
This made Sukuna laugh as his head reared back, shaking his head. You may have read too many biker stories to come up with that assumption as he took the helmet from your hands, to sit on top of your head.
"Of course I do. Don't want my book club partner to have an accident before she can read her book to me."
You roll your eyes as Sukuna sits the helmet on top of your head properly, adjusting the strap before checking if it was secure on your head, he gives a nod and goes to take his motorcycle off its stand, sitting on it and starting it up. It had a nice loud purr that almost vibrated in your chest as he cocked his head to gesture you.
You look at Sukuna and then at your clothes, realising that maybe your plan to look unsexy may have made it unsafe.
"Sukuna, how am I gonna sit on your bike?"
"You're just gonna have to hold your skirt up, Rosy."
You crouch slightly to lift the hem of your skirt up to your knees as you step up to Sukuna, holding your skirt in your left hand and using your right hand to rest on his shoulder to help you bring a leg around his bike. You're seated properly and bunch the skirt in the middle of your legs, unsure of where to put your right hand.
Sukuna can hear you think too hard as he gets your hand to hold onto his waist. He pushes your visor down as he warns.
"Hold tight, Rosy. Squeeze or scoot closer if you're scared. I don't mind."
One rev. Two revs and the motorcycle is kicked into ignition as Sukuna pushes forward slightly before beginning to drive to his place. He's smooth at driving as he effortlessly weaves in between cars, surprisingly it's not too fast or too slow and you're able to actually look around you
Motorcycle driving was a different experience as the lit lamps gave the city a lively vibe than the sleepy one you often used to see when looking through a car window. You could feel the rush of wind on your arms as you tighten your grip on Sukuna.
He was giving you a wonderful experience and it isn't long until he reaches an apartment complex, he parks his motorcycle near the kerb. He steps off first before giving you a hand so that you could lift yourself off his bike.
You had a good time, Sukuna could tell as you took off your helmet and gave him a chance to see your exhilarated facial expression. He too took off his helmet as he led you through the doors, straight to an elevator to the third floor.
His apartment is neat and tidy with an open floor living room and kitchen. The colours were dull and grey, almost like it hasn't been lived in for a while as you examine.
"It looks nice."
"Thanks. Only moved here two months ago so I didn't get a chance to redecorate."
"Ah, where were you before that?"
"Around Japan. Never settled in one place. When I set up my company, I decided to settle here. Makes it easier to list the business."
You gave a nod, looking around, there weren't many pictures. Was he alone? There were two doors in front of you, one door to your right and one to your left as Sukuna pointed at each one.
"The far left one is the bathroom, next to it is a guest room, my room and then a laundry room."
You nod, taking your shoes and socks off by the front door as you go over to his dark grey cushion sofas, setting your bag on the white coffee table. It was better if you knew more about him and surprisingly he wasn't shying away from any personal questions which made you wonder what he was intending.
"Yeah. Been on my own for a long time."
"You live alone?"
He was an interesting open book. As you get your book out, he heads to the kitchen to look in his fridge.
"Want a drink? I got water, beer or orange juice."
You crinkle your nose at the beer and juice, instead asking for water. He comes back with two bottles of water, handing one to you and taking a sip from the other one. He was definitely not what you assumed him to be.
"No beer?"
"Don't feel like it."
That was a lie as you picked your book up, flicking to get to the front page after making sure that your bookmark was in its proper place. How were you going to do this? But Sukuna answered that as he sat right next to you on the double sofa, his arm spread on the back and his legs spread wide.
"Go ahead and start, Rosy."
With no other qualms, you started to read. You had a nice soothing voice as you began the story and Sukuna was getting into the vibe. He was curious and interested as he asked you all sorts of questions about the characters, further clarifications about certain scenes and actions.
It was a nice intellectual discussion and Sukuna was for once enjoying with you. In fact he was slowly beginning to let go of his idea that you would be sleeping in his bed. He would much rather read which surprised him.
You had reached halfway and your hands started to get clammy as you were getting to the scene you were reading earlier. This was going to be embarrassing as you rolled your shoulder back, feeling a slight stiffness as you paused your reading. Looking up at him over the book, he seemed calm and interested which somehow made it harder to ask.
"What's up, Rosy? Wanna take a break?"
You were almost thankful as Sukuna glanced at his phone, noticing you had read for a good hour and a half. Yeah you needed a break.
"Let's take a break."
"Thanks, I'll just go to the bathroom and be back."
You step off the sofa and shuffle to the bathroom, rushing in and locking the door behind you. Taking deeper, harsher breaths to try and calm your beating heart. Surely Sukuna had to have some inkling that this was not an action book else why would he insist on you reading it to him.
You pee and wash your hands, freshening up and shaking away your nerves. It was just a book and fiction, you read it quite a lot, heck you can pass off your facial expressions to not be a giveaway. But Sukuna was going to know that this was a porn book and he was going to tease you endlessly.
After a few minutes, you leave the bathroom and rejoin Sukuna on the sofa, picking up the book to pick up where you left off when he plucks it out of your hands, offering.
"Why don't I read? This is a book club and we should share reading turns. Besides, I wouldn't want you to overexert your voice."
This was the worst idea Sukuna had as he began to read where you left off. All of sudden the temperature dropped, his voice dropped as he started to talk about the female lead encountering the male lead. You kept your body still as you listened to Sukuna begin to slow his pace.
Talking about the male lead getting down on his knees, kissing a trail up the female lead's legs and nuzzling his face into her panties. It felt like a whisper in your ear and for the moment you felt like you had been transported into the mayor's office and Sukuna was the one in between your legs.
His hands stroked up and down your legs whilst he sniffed at your panties, you felt yourself lull into a dizzy lusty spell as you closed your eyes to fully manifest the image in your mind. The voice stopped and you were back in reality as you opened your eyes to watch Sukuna pout.
"Is my voice so bad that you fell asleep?"
You hadn't fallen asleep as you blink your eyes, furrowing your brows at Sukuna. His lips twitched slightly and you had a feeling that he knew what this book was all along.
"No … not at all."
"We were just getting to the scene you said was important and I can see why."
You huffed, bringing your bare feet to tuck under you as you face him fully, straight posture and slightly leaning forward.
"You knew what this scene was?!"
"I caught a glimpse of the word 'suck' back in the library but snuck a better look while you were in the bathroom. It's an interesting book."
"Interesting book? It's got explicit sex scenes!"
"And? Sex is natural. There's nothing to be ashamed about. We will have an intellectual grown-up discussion about it. I'll continue."
That he did, he brought the story to life as he read about the oral scene in the mayor's office. You tried to keep a straight face but inside you felt yourself slowly burning, from shame or excitement the two were blurring.
Sukuna, too, was getting hot under his shirt, having shed his jacket now to show you his arms which were muscular and tattooed making your eyes wonder where else is tattooed. The book wasn’t what you were expecting, since it was meant to be a highly smutty pornographic book.
It was nothing, since you listened to the story. The main leads were hot and heavy in her room and the office. You had passed your bookmark and reading the climax was … underwhelming for you. Apparently the male lead was using the female lead to get revenge on her dad by screwing her in his office. She finds out, they argue and they make up. The big sex scene which your friends hyped up was unbearably tame.
Sukuna found it incredibly hot as he finished off his last sentence, closing the book and turning it over in his hands. He got a few good tips from the book which will help him as he took a moment to look at his book partner. His eyebrows crossed with confusion as he took in your disappointed disgruntled expression.
"Rosy?"
"Yeah?"
"What you think of the book?"
You look at the book cover, taking it from his hands and reading over the reviews. In all honesty, you couldn't believe how disappointing the book was despite the four/five star reviews.
"You tell me first, Sukuna."
"Well … the plot is interesting. Both the guy and the girl had interesting chemistry which made the love scenes hotter. I liked it. Especially that argument scene."
His words eventually stopped at the growing disappointed look on your face.
"So you didn't like the book?"
"It just … I have completely opposite opinions to you. The guy and girl have no chemistry. There was no captivating conflict and just the sex scenes were lackluster."
Sukuna tilted his head, you were unhappy? He wanted to grin so badly, hearing you be so disgusted by the lack of creative sex, making him wonder what you were into.
"Lackluster?"
"Yes. I've read better books than that. With better chemistry and sex."
"Really? What books are they?"
You were about to answer his question when you clamped your mouth shut. Did he truly want to know what books were better? Nah there was no way. He was just doing this to get you to have sex with him. You huff and let out a sarcastic sneer.
"Maybe when we have our next book club meeting."
"Sure, you're free tomorrow?"
"Wait … what?"
You wanted to laugh, say that he's joking and get him to give up but the serious expression on his face confirmed that he was interested. More than that, he would read more books with you.
"I'm serious. Look … I'm not gonna lie, at first I wanted to have sex."
It shouldn't surprise you. It really shouldn't. This was an expectation whenever you hung out with men who wanted a quick fuck. Basically a fuck boy but somehow you were surprised and taken aback by the fact that he outright admitted his true intentions. You wished you could be disgusted but instead you felt … vindicated.
"But when you started reading and then I took over, I enjoyed reading. I especially enjoy the conversation we're having, which surprises me as much as it might surprise you. I could be satisfied just reading a book with you, tonight."
You blinked once. Blinked twice, ruminating over his words. You least expected this outcome. Did your outfit work all too well? You look down at your clothes before looking up at Sukuna, just perplexed and befuddled. Sukuna seemed to reveal something to you which made him incredibly more attractive to you.
"You're not just saying that to guilt trip or manipulate me?"
"I might look like an asshole but … I'm not just saying that without any meaning. I'm serious."
This time he called you by your actual name, not that god awful nickname. He was serious. Dead serious. Somehow that made him more attractive. You shook your head harshly to knock that thought out of your head. You were in some kind of mood. Sukuna watched you rather nervously.
"Right. Well … I guess … thank you for being honest."
Sukuna gave a nod as he turned the book in his hands, changing the topic back.
"Well thanks for reading this book to me. I guess we agree to disagree on this book. Although I still find that argument scene hot. Especially when she grazes her teeth on his dick. Shit had my dick twitch."
At the mention of his dick, your eyes dropped down to see the imprint of it against his right thigh. What the fuck? Your eyes widen slightly, looking at his imprint. He looked like he had quite a bit of length on him.
"You liked the teeth? Isn't that like a no-no in blowjobs?"
Sukuna shrugged, looking up and answering the question.
"There is no rulebook on how to give a blowjob. You just go with the way you feel. Never really considered the thought of teeth on my dick but this book proved me wrong. Would be nice if a girl was rough with my dick."
At that moment a challenge was presented in front of your eyes. Somehow you felt the urge to be that girl. To be Sukuna's girl, even if it was just for one night and if he never called again. All your logic and reasoning went out the window and you only live once.
Sukuna watched you curiously get inside your head, wondering what you were planning. He exhaled looking down at his phone to see the time.
"Well, it's getting very late Rosy and I'm hungry. Want to order some -"
He was about to get up when you stood up and pushed him back onto his double sofa. What was going on with you as Sukuna watched you get on your knees, his eyes widened.
"Hey! What are you-"
You pressed your hand against Sukuna's mouth, your other hand drawing circles on his knee.
"For the record, this is out of my own volition. Can I …"
You trailed off, almost feeling embarrassed to say what you wanted to do to him. Your bravery was all over the place and Sukuna quirked a curious eyebrow. He couldn't believe this was happening and he didn't even initiate it. He didn't know whether to stop or carry on. Either way he felt like a dick and he was going to be an inconsiderate dick.
Sukuna gently pried your hand off his mouth, holding it and fiddling with your fingers.
"Can you what? Come on say what you were gonna say, Rosy?"
You huff through your nose and bite your lip. Now you definitely weren't going to say it as Sukuna grinned. You were the type of girl to live in fantasies so he truly didn't expect you to follow through as he brought his hand onto your shoulders.
"You know this is very cute but … I'm fine with just reading. Don't strain yourself."
You hated this placating tone, like Sukuna wouldn't believe you and let you do what you wanted and this made your nose scrunch in anger.
"Fine. Can I give you a rough blowjob or are you gonna be a difficult piece of shit?"
"Well shit, Rosy. You didn't have to be such a brat but I appreciate you asking for permission."
Sukuna watched you as he gestured for you to go ahead, his eyes trailed down from your eyes to your nose, mouth and neck. He was gonna let you have your way with him as he watched you unbutton the jeans, unzipping the fly and tugging slightly so that his jeans were off his butt.
You could see the dick more clearly as you noticed it was not only long but quite girthy. It was half erect which offended you as you brought your finger to stroke along the length. Sukuna flinched at your sudden touch, watching your finger stroke him through his boxers and making it rouse to life.
This was your first blow job. Heck, this was the first time you've ever done anything sexual except for masturbating and even that was … You've read books and watched porn. You could do this. Somehow you weren't too fussed about giving your virginity to someone special. You could do this. You didn't care about your first as long as you found someone to be a lifelong last.
Hooking your index finger into his waistband, you tugged it down, almost getting smacked in the face by the sudden growth. Even more, he was circumcised, and trimmed. Sukuna was a shower for sure, looking up at him and connecting your eyes with his.
"Are you waiting for something Rosy?"
"Nah, just wanted to see if you were watching carefully."
Sukuna huffed a laugh, leaning his head back before shuffling down slightly to get his dick to brush your lips.
"Oh, I'm intending to watch everything, Rosy, especially if you're planning to use your teeth. Lemme know if you need help."
You frowned at his words, deciding to just go for it as you leaned forward to purse your lips around his tip, you begin suckling on it, pushing your tongue down to lick up his length. Making your mouth water more so that your saliva drips down as you slowly push more of his dick into your mouth.
His hands clenched the cushions of his sofa, his nose let out short breaths as he watched you slobber over his dick like a dog on a bone. You had no experience for sure but somehow this was so much better than any blowjob he had received. Your inexperience was driving him crazy as he watched your saliva droop down.
For sure you were a messy girl as you took Sukuna's dick out of your mouth, licking up and down before spitting on it and retaking it into your mouth. You bring your teeth down and gently graze against his frenulum which made him yelp. An interesting sound as you repeated your action.
This was way better and somehow his heart pumped faster every time your teeth pinch the length. You could bite down and somehow the potential pain of that made him grow so hard, and before he knew it, he was whining. He's never whined or whimpered. Your teeth teased at his girth, threatening to bite down which almost had him arch his back.
Watching Sukuna react like that made you push harder, licking down to where his balls were. You kissed them before gulping them into your mouth and sucking at them like they were a melon ball. Precum was starting to pool at the slit of his penis which surprised him because it took Sukuna longer to get to an orgasm stage.
There was something different about you as you noticed the white viscose cum on his tip. You licked at it, finally tasting what you've only read about. It wasn't great and it wasn't awful. It was salty and you began to suck his tip again in the hopes to get him to produce more.
"Shit, Rosy. Stop teasing."
Sukuna was at his whims end as he watched you guzzle his dick like it was ice cream. You weren't teasing at all in fact you wanted to try to fit him into your mouth as you sat up straighter and brought your head down. Slowly swallowing his cock to try to deep throat him.
Unfortunately you had a terrible gag reflex that made you pull up immediately, Sukuna jerked in surprise as he watched you pull away, gagging. You were an overachiever which made him grin with glee at your grumpy pout. He patted your cheek to reassure you.
"Hey Rosy, don't be so grumpy. You're doing well."
You mimicked his words and tried again but failed once again as your gag reflex made you pull up. Sukuna exhaled exasperatedly, grabbing both your cheeks to make your attention face him.
"Why are you being a brat? You clearly cannot deepthroat me so don't do that again."
"Or what?"
You were in that kind of mood as Sukuna almost guffawed in laughter. One of his hands slid down to press just below your jawline. A shiver ran down your body as Sukuna leaned in, quoting from the book.
"Or I'll fuck that throat so hard that you lose your voice."
You bit back a smile, the logic of that made no sense and you just found it funny which made Sukuna curiously tilt his head and tighten his grip on your neck.
"That funny?"
"I mean … that is so not possible."
Sukuna pursed back a smile, bowing his head slightly so he could not laugh at your words. You were by far the funniest most interesting lay, he was for sure never going to make this a one time thing as he looked up and into your eyes, trying to maintain that serious tone.
"Oh yeah, wanna bet?"
"Totally."
Sukuna shaked his head and huffed out a laugh, leaning his head back and palming his face. You and your terrible sense of humour got to him.
"Goddamn it Rosy, I'm tryna set a mood here."
You shrugged and were about to return to sucking Sukuna's dick when he shook his head and pulled you up by your shoulders. Standing up and lifting you in his strong arms, pressing his lips onto yours. His tongue licked around your mouth, taking in his own taste.
He blindly guided you to his own room, stepping on top of his own bed to lay you down. There was no more patience in Sukuna as he let go of your lips to fully undress and show his full nude body. This time you noticed that he was covered in tattoos, all over his chest and arms and legs. You were surprised there weren't any on his dick.
"I see you admiring me Rosy."
"Nah, just wondering why your dick ain't tattooed?"
"Just cause I didn't. Now I'mma ask this once: can I be your first?"
You blinked in surprise, how'd he know you were a virgin. There was no way he should have been able to tell that. You clear your throat and unbutton your shirt.
"What kinda question is that? You're not my first."
This was funny to Sukuna as he broke out into a full blown laughter. It took a few minutes for him to settle before he loomed over you making your thighs rest on his hips as his nose brushed against yours.
"Don't try to be funny. It's actually cute that you're a virgin. Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
Sukuna pulls off your shirt and skirt, raising an eyebrow at your fox print bra and underwear. At least you were wearing matching underwear as Sukuna snapped the band of your panties against your waist.
"So this is the new kind of lingerie nowadays. You're just getting cuter by the minute."
You frowned, you weren't cute, you were sexy and you had enough of Sukuna's cockiness as you brought your hands to his shoulders, shoving him to roll onto his back. Bringing your whole body to straddle him and have your pussy press against his cock which made the both of you shiver.
"Think I'm cute now?"
By instinct, your hips began to slowly roll on his cock gradually increasing in speed which made Sukuna huff and whimper, the only thing he could hold onto was your hips. You had your hands on his chest to steady yourself. This was way better than anything you imagined as your head lolled back in pleasure.
Sukuna too was enthralled in the act, there was something about you that was making his cool dominant demeanour just fade away as you began to hump him faster. He brought a thumb down to rub rapid circles on your clit which had you convulse and beg.
"Sukuna! Fuck!"
"Shit!"
You were being brought closer to the edge by Sukuna's thumb as you gyrated your hips faster until you shuddered with pleasure. Finally reaching your high, followed by Sukuna who's cum spread: a little bit on your underwear, his stomach, his chest and his lower jaw.
You were lost in pleasure as your head rolled back and forth, Sukuna was also feeling a little out of breath but he had enough energy for one more round, this time he was going inside. He blindly reached into his bedside drawer to pull out a red bottle of lube. He squirted some onto his hand and fingers, spreading a little more onto his penis.
Sliding your underwear to a side, you let out a broken gasp at the intrusion of Sukuna's lubed fingers inside your vagina. Thrusting them a few times to get you used to the feel before sliding them out and grabbing the base of his penis. In your orgasmic daze you noticed his hand on his penis.
To help him, you shift forward slightly and guide the penis inside you. Full on moaning uncontrollably whilst one of your hands dug and yanked Sukuna's hair.
"Fuck Rosy, gonna be the death of me."
You smiled and gave a nod, finally sitting down onto his dick. He fit snugly inside thanks to the lube as your gushy walls clenched at the feel of his dick inside you. This was way better than any book you've ever read. You were way better than any woman Sukuna fucked.
It felt incredible and warm being inside you, Sukuna was never going to let you go. However something seemed to snap in your head as you squealed and pulled yourself out, hopping off the bed and going through the drawers before tossing a foil packet on Sukuna's chest.
"Fuck, you forgot protection."
Sukuna huffed with a smirk, ripping open the foil and rolling the condom on himself.
"Shut up!"
"Virgin. Totally called it."
You got back on the bed, this time sliding onto Sukuna's dick again, your insides clenched and relaxed at the feel of him inside you. A hiss left his lips, planting his feet on the bed and making you bounce up and down as if you were on those bouncy balls.
Your nails dug into Sukuna's shoulders as you couldn't control your movements, feeling like a toy. No wonder the female protagonists in the books you read were pushed to their limits in sex because sex itself was tiring. Sukuna had his eyes closed and teeth gritted whilst sweat was sticking like water droplets on his skin.
Once again feeling a little offended, you brought your right hand onto his neck, squeezing as hard as you could to get his attention.
"Hey! Sukuna! Keep your eyes open! Thought you were gonna watch everything."
He opened his eyes which made you notice that he had dark brown eyes like the bark of trees in a forest. It was the warmest kindest thing you saw from him as you watched Sukuna take your fingers to scoop some of the cum that was about to dry on his skin, moving your fingers into his mouth and sucking off his own taste.
"Don't worry, I'm not missing anything."
A few more thrusts and you were close to cumming which disappointed you. For some unknown deep embedded reason, you wanted Sukuna to cum first, to tire out first. Just anything to get rid of that placating confidence. You needed to delay your orgasm and the best way to do that was to completely move away.
Immediately you got off Sukuna, huffing and puffing rather tiredly which made Sukuna groan in disappointment. He couldn't believe that you pulled yourself off again, as he turned his face to watch you only, for you to climb back on him, slide him in and go again.
Sukuna tilted his head in confusion, unsure of what you're playing at. Although he could feel himself getting close to the edge, he was about to move his hand down to squeeze at the base of his penis to delay his orgasm but you grabbed his wrist and pressed it down beside his head. You did the same to his other hand.
Thrusting harder and uncontrollably, Sukuna was getting very close to spilling as he hissed through his teeth.
"Fuck Rosy! Stop! I'm gonna-"
"Go 'head. I want ya to."
This was what you were playing at as Sukuna knowingly grinned. Instead he dug deep into himself to mentally block himself from coming but the sound of your words snapped him out.
"Oh Sukuna! Fuck! You feel so good!"
You were playing dirty. Talking loudly, holding his hands down and bouncing on him. Truthfully, he could overpower you, and really fuck you hard. However you were the one who initiated the sex, so you were the one in control. Sukuna was fine with that and next time he could get the upper hand and really mess you up.
You could have this one as Sukuna exhaled deeply, ejaculating into the condom. He came harder than before and somehow he felt a little more exhausted. He looked down to where you were joined, watching his penis disappear into you and it wasn't long until you reached your high. Your vagina got wetter and started dripping down his condom.
Your arms and legs started to burn slightly as you dropped yourself onto Sukuna's chest making him huff in pain at your sudden drop. His eyes furrowed in confusion, tapping your shoulder and calling your name to see if you were still awake. You hummed slightly which made Sukuna exhale in relief.
"Hey, wake up. Gotta dispose the condom."
You frowned rather tiredly but rolled yourself off him and beside him. Taking deep breaths to cool down your skin, looking to your left to see Sukuna take off the condom and tie the end with a knot. His legs felt like they were glued to his sheets, he broke out in a smile and wiped his forehead. There was a small bucket which he used as a bin, he tossed the condom as it landed inside.
Sukuna glanced back at you, seeing you take deep heavy breaths. You were tired out like him.
"How was that for your first night?"
"That wasn't my-" You cut off at the look on Sukuna's face. There was no point lying. "It was … good. You?"
Sukuna laughed heartily, heart warm from you asking him how it was.
"I mean, I cannot feel my legs so … it was really really good, Rosy."
Your heart swelled from the praise as you bit your bottom lip and looked away which made Sukuna grin because you were shying away again. He brought his hands onto your waist to make you lie on top of him, stretching his hand out to pull the sheet over both of your waists.
"Why'd you call me Rosy?"
"Aw don't look away Rosy."
Sukuna shrugged, his fingers coming up to stroke at your cheeks.
"Cause I like how flustered you were when I called for your attention for the first time."
That was clever of him and flattering as you gave a nod. Sukuna grinned, bringing your chin up to give you a peck on the lips.
"So same thing for tomorrow's book club?"
You raised an eyebrow, bringing your finger to trace at Sukuna's lips.
"I never agreed."
"Come on Rosy. We need to read a book that's not so … lackluster as you so put it."
There was something about Sukuna that just made you roll your eyes but agree as you give a short nod.
"Okay fine. But we are strictly reading."
"Says the one who initiated this."
"I did not-"
"Really? I told you I was just fine reading but you said it yourself: 'I'm doing this out of my own volition.'"
You laugh breathlessly, agreeing and not contesting his words.
"Okay fine. But we are not recreating book scenes if we do end up having sex."
"Ugh, stop acting like a virgin now."
You smack Sukuna on his shoulder which makes him squeeze your thighs, staring down into your eyes whilst raising his eyebrows. You technically hadn't recreated a sex scene as Sukuna informs you.
"Well if you wanna get technical: we only recreated an oral technique. We've still yet to recreate a sex scene. Did I tell you that I have an office for my company? We can do the office scene there."
"We're gonna have sex, again?"
"I mean …it's only a suggestion."
It sounded like a challenge again as you pierce your eyes together. Somehow you manage to gain some strength in your body as you push yourself to sit up on his thighs.
"Why wait for your office when we can just go ahead and recreate the bedroom scene? This time following - it - exactly."
He liked where you were going with this as he nudged your body to shuffle forward slightly.
"Sure, why not? But you're gonna have to scoot up and take a seat on my face because I still can't feel my legs."
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TOGETHER AGAIN SPOILERS
A thread of lore, Easter eggs, episode connections, and background details from Adventure Time: Distant Lands: Together Again! Let me know if I missed anything! This is adapted from my original Twitter thread.
Keep reading ⬇️⬇️⬇️
1. I was expecting them to perhaps do a classic style title sequence for this episode, but I wasn't expecting them to straight up use the original title sequence. The only difference is this final screen saying "Distant Lands".
2. The background of the title cards is also the hill from the title sequence.
3. The ice cream having "50 flavours" and having an image of an enlightened soul is an obvious reference to the 50th Dead World as we see it later in the episode.
4. Continuing with the metaphor, the dirt in the ice cream could be a parallel to the fact that Jake's Nirvana actually wasn't perfect, because his inaction was allowing for injustice to perpetuate.
5. This whole scene feels immediately slightly off. Finn has his Scarlet sword and is out on a classic Ice King adventure, but he speaks in his grown voice and all the slang feels much more forced than it did in the real season one. Turns out this was deliberate.
6. The snow golem speaks with a baby voice like it did in the pilot episode, even though in canon it has a deeper voice. This further hints that something is not quite right.
7. The first major break in continuity is these snow golems resembling Uncle Gumbald and Peace Master, who Finn didn't meet until later in his life.
8. LSP sitting on Finn's head like this is reminiscent of Pen Ward's piece for the 2018 Ble crew zine.
9. Finn being given the choice of helping somebody but ending up helping everybody reminds me of "Memories of Boom Boom Mountain". It's the kind of resolution that wouldn't happen so much in the late seasons of the show, which helps make this scene feel even further out of place.
10. Jake is half frozen by Ice King in pretty much the exact same way as he was in "Prisoners of Love", and even has a very similar line.
11. The Snail is seen here. The crew have said that the Snail has been deliberately left out of previous Distant Lands specials, so its placement here is another very deliberate hint that this whole sequence is "trying too hard" to be like the early seasons.
12. The book "Mind Games" appears a couple of times, as seen in several previous episodes of Adventure Time. The first is as Finn is approaching the library in his dream. It also appears as one of the items in Finn's backpack later.
13. Jake is hurt when Finn fist bumps him with his metal arm, revealing that this scene is not real. This is also a callback to the title sequences of "Islands" and "Elements".
14. A whole bunch of familiar skeletons are seen in the bird's nest: Dirt Beer Guy, Abracadaniel, Me-Mow, Lemongrab, Mr. Pig, and the Snail again. This doesn't necessarily mean that all these characters are dead, since this scene is just a hallucination.
15. Old Man Finn! He's still got the chest tattoo of Jake, and this time we know that Jake is dead, so the theory that Jake died before "Obsidian" seems pretty likely. He looks similar to his old man design from "Puhoy", with the same facial hair.
16. There are several cameos of familiar characters who apparently died at the same time as Finn. The first is this duck, who previously appeared in "Ocarina".
17. The second is Donny, from the episode... uh, "Donny".
18. This goblin guy is an unnamed background character from “The Silent King”.
19. This old lady first appeared in "The Enchiridion", way back in season one. Old ladies are a species in the Land of Ooo, so I guess she wasn't actually very old back then, given she just about outlived Finn.
20. This is the cobbler who first appears in "His Hero". Amazing that he lived so long given all the trouble he got into in that episode.
21. Land of the Dead! This place was first seen in season two's "Death in Bloom", and now we are finally learning its actual purpose. It's a sort of gateway and hub to all of the other dead worlds.
22. There are some more minor cameos at the gates: a house person from "Donny", a soft person from "Gut Grinder", and a wood person from "When Wedding Bells Thaw". And, of course, the gate guardian himself from “Death in Bloom”.
23. Finn completely ignores the gate guardian in the same way he did in Death in Bloom. This also has the convenient effect of not having to reveal how Finn died, leaving it up to the audience's imagination.
24. Mr. Fox! We already knew he would die at some point because BMO had his skull in the finale.
25. Finn has his design from the first Distant Lands poster in this scene. Turns out it's young Finn in old Finn's clothes. But they gave him a shirt in the poster so you wouldn't be able to see the tattoo.
26. The clapping that Finn does while he's looking for Jake is a callback to "James Baxter the Horse", when Jake tells Finn to listen for that same rhythm if they are killed and need to find each other in the afterlife.
27. Mr. Fox talks about a "past life quotient", suggesting that there might be some kind of limit to how many times somebody can reincarnate. Finn's reincarnations are also seen in this scene; a callback to "The Vault", and confirmation that reincarnations share the same soul.
28. Boobafina, the goose who Mr. Fox was in love with in his debut episode “Storytelling”, apparently reincarnated into a tugboat. We've already seen that objects can have souls in the episode "Ghost Fly".
29. Finn is initially assigned to the 37th Dead World, which is the same one that Jake went to when he died in "Sons of Mars". We can only guess at what the other numbers on the ticket mean ;)
30. Tiffany! Despite several lucky escapes throughout his life, Tiffany has finally died. I like the use of this imagery to express Finn's conflicted feelings about him.
31. The 50th Dead World has long been established as the "highest" dead world, and the one synonymous with Heaven within Adventure Time's universe. It was first mentioned in "Ghost Princess" back in season three.
32. It's unclear what happens to souls which are destroyed within the dead worlds. It is a similar question to asking what happened to the ghosts that were killed in "Ghost Fly".
33. Death doesn't speak at all in Together Again because his voice actor, Miguel Ferrer, passed away in 2017 long before production began.
34. Finn phases through New Death when he tries to attack him, just like what happened way back in "Death in Bloom".
35. The 30th Dead World contains Tree Trunks as well as many of her love interests; Mr. Pig, her alien husband from "High Strangeness", Danny and Randy who first appeared in "Apple Wedding", and several more who we don't recognise, including at least one who presents as a woman.
36. Literally yelled when these two showed up. Joshua calls Finn a crybaby, which is a callback to "Dad's Dungeon".
37. The wall of weapons in Joshua and Margaret's house includes the iconic Demon Blood Sword, which was broken in "Play Date", as well as Margaret's auto-loading crossbow from "Joshua & Margaret Investigations".
38. Jermaine is sidelined a few times through the episode, in reference to his attitude in "Jermaine" where he feels that Finn and Jake were always their parents' favourites. I would have hoped things would be a bit better by now.
39. Fern gets name dropped while Finn and Jake are reuniting. A shame he doesn't actually show up in the episode.
40. In this scene, Finn says "What time is it?" This is a very subtle reference to the 2010 cartoon "Adventure Time".
41. In a couple of shots during this fight scene it looks like Jake might have a tattoo. It seems like it only becomes visible when he stretches out his arm.
42. New Death's amulet in this scene resembles parts of the Lich's cape, foreshadowing his influence on New Death.
43. There are several more cameos in the 50th Dead World: Booshy from "High Strangeness", one of the Marshmallow Kids from "Scamps", and Ghost Princess and Clarence, who were seen ascending to the 50th Dead World in "Ghost Princess".
44. Finn didn't interact with Booshy in "High Strangeness", but it seems they must have met at some point before they both died because Finn knows his name.
45. It seems like people in the 1st Dead World are slowly melted away until they become part of the landscape. Nasty.
46. Lots more cameos in this scene: a gnome from "Power Animal", a gnome from "The Enchiridion", a Bath Boy from "The Vault", Blagertha from "Love Games", Maja the Sky Witch, a troll from "Dungeon", Chocoberry, Choose Goose, Wyatt, a spiky person from "Gut Grinder", and possibly more.
47. Tiffany's insults are consistently nonsensical and amazing, as they were in the original series.
48. The Candy Kingdom looks extremely different. Peppermint Butler is wearing the crown so he might be in charge now, which is supported by the kingdom's very magical-looking augmentations. It’s not clear whether Finn and Jake were expecting to find Princess Bubblegum or Peppermint Butler, since both have the initials “PB” and both could be going by the title of “Princess”. Perhaps Peps and Bubblegum share the princess duties now that PB is living with Marceline more of the time.
49. Peppermint Butler has a "Boss" mug, although it's not the same colour as the one from "Obsidian".
50. Jake's ghost has the same design as he did when BMO killed him in "Ghost Fly". I also absolutely love Finn's ghost. This scene establishes that ghosts are just visitors to the mortal plane from the dead worlds.
51. Life has only appeared in animated shorts before now. Namely, "The Gift That Reaps Giving" which establishes her relationship with Death, and "Frog Seasons: Winter". This episode gives her a concrete place within Adventure Time's pantheon: she is in charge of reincarnation.
52. A translation of Life’s angry French dialogue by Shado: “After all I did for that boy. After all I did for him. No, it's not possible. It's not possible no, that... that makes me so mad but it's not possible.”
53. We finally have in-universe confirmation that Shoko's tiger is a previous life of Jake. This was previously confirmed by one of the writers, but wasn't canon until now.
54. I feel like Finn pulled off Shoko's look even better than Shoko did. I wonder whether Finn has gained the memories of his past lives now that he’s dead.
55. No Easter egg here, just want to appreciate this image.
56. There is an elemental symbol on the wall here, as seen in "Jelly Beans Have Power".
57. Tiffany's dramatic internal monologue is a recurring gag, as is his habit of nearly dying from falling into holes.
58. The Jake suit makes a cameo in the fight against New Death. It was last seen in the episode "Reboot”.
59. Finn's backpack contains a few familiar items: the t-shirt with the pocket from "It Came from the Nightosphere", Finn's underwear from "Little Dude" and other episodes, and a copy of Mind Games as I've already mentioned.
60. The Lich's Hand is present in the background of Death's... death scene. This is probably the unseen "friend" who New Death keeps talking about.
61. The Lich's menacing monologues often begin with a single command. Previously they have included "Fall" and "Stop". This time, the command is "Burn".
62. Jake uses the word "boingloings", which is a callback all the way to "Hitman" in the third season.
63. Jake's blue shape-shifter form from "Abstract" appears very briefly during his fight with Finn.
64. Finn's lumpy space person form also makes an appearance. This design was last seen all the way back in the second episode of the entire show, "Trouble in Lumpy Space".
65. Jake steps on the Lich's hand in a very similar way to how he stepped on Ash in "Memory of a Memory", which is itself a Monty Python reference.
66. The credits include a dedication to a few AT cast and crew who have passed away. Polly Lou Livingston was the voice of Tree Trunks. Miguel Ferrer was the voice of Death. Michel Lyman and Maureen Mlynarczyk were both sheet timers on the original series. Rest in peace.
67. The message that Finn and Jake write out on the ouija board is "BUTT", which Peppermint Butler takes as a distress signal. This message is also used as a distress signal by the Hot Dog Knights in "The Limit".
68. Peppermint Butler's reversed dialogue from the scene where he makes contact with Finn and Jake is "Kee-Oth Rama Pancake", the spell from “Dad's Dungeon” for banishing demons.
69. That appears to be President Porpoise with all of Tree Trunks’ other lovers.
70. In this scene, Life is humming part of "Lonely Bones", the song which Death tried to record for her in her debut short "The Gift That Reaps Giving". It's hard to notice because it's so brief.
71. Finn and Jake's cover is blown while in the Land of the Dead because Jake loudly farts, which also happened in "Death in Bloom".
72. The place where Mr. Fox explains the perception mechanics of the afterlife is the exact same location as the River of Forgetfulness from "Death in Bloom", which, as it turns out, was imaginary.
These are sort of out of order at the end because I was adding stuff to the Twitter thread as it got discovered. That’s all for now!
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Blaise’s Cup of Tea (D.M)
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader
Warnings: some mentions of alcohol, very mild sexual themes, nothing too explicit, Draco being a fûxkboy ,Draco being a huge simp
Summary: where Draco is secretly in love with his best friend’s fiancée
Word count: 2122
A/n: had this idea in the shower and I couldn’t help myself. The blog has been a mess recently and for that I apologise.
For Draco Malfoy, a typical night usually consisted of three things.
First, a glass of his favourite spirit; preferably scotch in his hand.
Second, a cigar tucked in between his fingers
And third, a random girl in his bed chambers. It didn't matter if his company for the night shared the same interests as him, it didn't matter if she liked him for who he was or if she liked him solely for being the heir to the massive Malfoy fortune.
Come morning, he would never have to see her again anyway.
His Father, Lucius always chastised him for bringing a different girl as a plus one to social events. Even Narcissa wasn't all too pleased about her son engaging in all these hedonistic activities and bedding random girls.
The friends he’d grown up with were all well on their way to settling down and having children while he was still not even close to having a serious relationship.
“Why can’t you be more like Zabini?” Lucius would say, everytime the Malfoys sat down for a family dinner. Narcissa would agree to this while expressing her desire for grandchildren and Draco would have to refrain from choking on his dinner.
Blaise Zabini, was happily engaged to longtime girlfriend Daphne Greengrass and they were busy planning their Summer wedding.
Every time Draco would meet Blaise for a drink, all he’d talk about was Daphne, the wedding, floral arrangements, invites and party favours. Just last week, Blaise even confessed to having already thought out names for his future children.
Taking a final sip of his scotch, Draco placed his glass on his desk and returned to his bed, where a random brunette girl was peacefully asleep.
He took a few moments to recall her given name in his mind but this attempt remained futile. He couldn’t even remember how he felt while they were doing the deed a few hours prior.
His father was right, he was slowly turning into, for a lack of a better term, “Pig person.”
As he quietly slipped into his bed next to the brunette, he started to think about all the one night stands he’d had in the last few months.
One night stands are appropriately called one night stands for a reason. He knew that.
But it wasn't his fault he couldn’t get that one particular night from four months ago with that one particular girl out of his system.
It had all started out so innocently.
A chance encounter at a bar, alcohol fueled conversation, his hands on her hips on the dance floor and his lips on her lips by the end of the night.
He’d never before met anybody so charming yet painfully frustrating in his life.
Y/n. Y/l/n.
Distinctive features, expressive eyes and lips that quirked upward with a wicked smile.She had one of those faces that had the capability of engraving itself into one’s subconscious and the way her brows furrowed in annoyance indicated that she might have been aware and unnerved by it.
In the few hours he’d spent with her, she’d stimulated his brain with her wits and intellect. She’d made him care about uninteresting things like the witch burnings in the 14th Century. She’d challenged his predetermined notions and world view.
Everything about her was vivacious.
Her effervescence reminded him of a freshly opened bottle of sparkling Rosé on a hot summers day. Crisp yet sweet if you took in a moment for the flavours to sink in.
And Merlin was this girl could kiss!
The way she gently nipped on his lower lip and teasingly traced her tongue left him with something more to be desired.
Nothing happened with Y/n that night. Nothing except feverish kisses and whispers of “I want you.”
They’d spent the whole night talking. He’d never spent the night with a girl and not done anything before.
And she’d left before he could even manage to open his eyes the next morning.
She’d disappeared without a sign or trace.
Nothing but her fruity fresh scent on his pillows remained to remind him that she was in fact real and not some hallucination.
Draco went the the very same bar again the next day with his hopes held high. He wanted to see her again. He needed to see her again.
But to his utter dismay, y/n never showed up.
Soon, it became a habit of his to go to the bar and wait for her.
He’d gotten so desperate at one point that he even interrogated the bar keep about the girl that had seemingly managed to capture his attention in the span of a night.
But no matter how hard he tried, Draco never got any answers.
She became nothing but a distant ghost of a rather blissfully perfect night.
Just when he was about to toss away the memories of y/n and her pretty lips inside a locked and chained box in his head, he heard his house elf appear with a pop into his bed chambers.
“Master Malfoy, this letter just came for you.” The elf said quietly as he stretched out his arm to hand Draco a sealed envelope.
Draco would have told his elf off for appearing in his chambers in the middle of the night but decided against it when he saw the scrawl of Blaise’s messy handwriting on the envelope.
It was two in the morning and a rather odd time for Blaise to be sending him a letter.
Assuming that it must be something urgent, Draco quickly ripped open the seal and unfolded the letter.
Draco,
I write this with a heavy heart and I write this with nothing for company except a bottle of bourbon.
Daphne left me this morning.
The wedding is off and it is all my fault.
To be honest, It did feel like things were going too fast and we were jumping to life altering decisions without taking the time to think and contemplate.
After thinking all day, I have decided to get married after all.
Your mother has been rather kind and offered to set me up with a girl that is supposedly “perfect for me.” Although I definitely trust her judgement, It would be great if you could “assist” Narcissa in her search. You are my best friend after all.
B.Z.
By the time Draco was done reading Blaise’s letter, the girl sleeping next to him had started to toss and turn in her sleep.
~~~
When his mum flooed into his residence the next morning, Draco’s company for the night, who was named Sylvia by the way, was just on her way out.
Sylvia was rather laid back and was looking for nothing other than a rebound. Draco had offered her tea but she’d politely declined stating that she had brunch planned with her friends anyway.
“And who is this charming young lady, Draco?” Narcissa asked.
“She’s Sylvia and Sylvia was just on her way out.” Draco said in a clipped voice before literally shoving an annoyed looking Sylvia into the fireplace.
“It was nice meeting you Mrs. Malfoy.” Sylvia said in a calm and polite voice, with floo powder in her hands. “See you around Draco.”
“And I thought, you were finally serious for once.” Narcissa sighed before sinking down into one of the many chairs Draco had in his living room.
Draco wanted to say something sarcastic in response but he bit his tongue and held it all back. There were more pressing matters at hand that required his attention. Like helping his mum find an appropriate match for Blaise who has so casually placed such a huge responsibility on his shoulders.
The responsibility required him to go on multiple, rather tiresome “dates” set up by his mother.
The first girl he met mistook him for Blaise.
The second girl he met confessed that she was being coaxed into the meeting by her overbearing parents and had a secret Muggle boyfriend that she loved with her whole heart.
The third girl he met was one of Blaise’s ex girlfriends.
The fourth girl turned out to be one of Draco’s own one night stands that had ended on a sour note.
It was safe to say that Draco returned to his mother that night with his shirt stained burgundy from the wine she’d poured over his head. He deserved it though.
Narcissa even agreed that he’d deserved it because she broke into a chuckle when her son walked into the Malfoy Manor with drops of wine falling from his blond hair.
“Well this is a disaster.” Draco muttered to his mother who gave him an accomplished looking smile in return.
“This was a Disaster.” She quipped, before leaning towards the coffee table to pour herself some more tea. “Luckily, I’ve already found someone I deem to be a suitable partner for Blaise.”
“You have?”
“I have. I too have been pulling some reins and meeting people personally for Blaise. He is like a son to me after all.”
“Looks like I got splashed with a vintage red for no apparent reason then.” Draco muttered before using his wand to summon a clean cotton shirt.
Narcissa simply shook her head at her son and stood up from her chair. “I’ve actually invited her for tea today so that you’d be able to meet her as well. Why don’t you fix your hair and put on a clean shirt before she gets here hm?”
Draco knew there was no point in arguing with his mother.
When Narcissa Malfoy wanted things done, she’d sure as hell go ahead and get them done. A true Slytherin she was.
He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and used a cleaning charm on his hair. He would have preferred to shower but he didn’t really have the time to dilly-dally around.
“Fancy seeing you here.” He heard a voice say, just as he was about to put on his clean shirt.
It was a familiar voice and it raised prickling goosebumps all over his exposed flesh.
The goosebumps were a natural reaction to hearing a voice he’d replayed over and over in his head every single night for the last four months.
In front of him stood Y/n Y/l/n in the flesh. Very much real and not a ghost of his imagination, clad in a blush coloured midi dress with a sweetheart neckline.
He opened his mouth to answer but his mother beat him to it.
“Welcome to our home. Sit down, have some tea with us.” Narcissa said in her best hostess voice and all Draco could do was force his hanging jaw shut.
~~~~~~
The next few hours felt like the longest yet shortest few hours of his life.
He was still processing the fact that he had in fact seen the girl, the ghost, the memory right in front of his eyes, wearing a dress that made her look like a scene in a vintage film.
His palms were sweaty, his head was reeling, his throat was as dry as the Sahara and he could barely pay any attention to a word his mother was saying.
“Draco?” Narcissa cleared her throat when he failed to respond. “Draco dear, are you listening?”
“Yes mother.” He replied curtly before taking a sip of his tea in a desperate attempt to soothe his throat.
After what seemed like another torturous hour of tea and polite conversation, you thanked Narcissa for having you and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before taking the floo network.
“The Y/l/n family has been a friend to our family for years.” Narcissa commented. “I think Blaise would be rather fond of y/n. What do you think, Draco?”
He wanted to tell his mother about the time he spent with you four months ago.
He wanted to tell her that he was ready for a serious relationship if it was with you.
He never really cared for the colour pink but it suddenly felt like a rather nice colour.
You were witty, clever, sincere and extremely gorgeous. Of course Blaise would like you. He’d be a fool not to.
After taking a few more seconds to carefully contemplate the situation at hand, Draco finally opened his mouth.
“Yes, I think Blaise would like Y/n.”
Narcissa looked at him with a satisfied smile and the weight of a fully grown giant landed on Draco’s shoulder.
Maybe you weren't Blaise’s cup of tea.
Maybe he’ll get back together with Daphne. Yeah, that would be perfect.
But what if he didn’t?
Could Draco live his whole life knowing that he was absolutely smitten with his Best Friend’s soon to be Fiancée?
~~~
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#draco malfoy#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco fanfiction#draco fluff#draco angst#draco x yn#Draco x you#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy one shot#Draco fic
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untraditional
@lamenweek day five: traditions
Damen doesn’t think he’s supposed to feel so bone-weary at thirty-one.
Everything in his body aches, and he’s already greying at his temples. Last night, he had gone to bed at eight.
Theomedes doesn’t look up from the Ios Financial Times when Damen enters the Drawing Room. The table already has been set: Damen’s seat is, as usual, is to the left of his father, exactly fourty-seven centimetres apart. Damen’s food has been already served, because his father got here before him, and everyone gets served the same time as Theomedes.
Damen’s entire life has been dictated by these traditions, guidelines and precedents.
Some of them are good, but most of them are like this: nonsensical and elitist.
Even Theomedes’ and Damianos’ tea is prepared via strict protocol: one teaspoon of loose tea leaves per cup, heated to a hundred degrees celcius (seventy for green tea), with a tablespoon of organic, raw honey added straight to the teapot.
(It’s amazing tea, though).
Theomedes says, “Your food is cold.”
Damen stares at the pile of mash potatoes and salmon. “I’m not hungry.”
He also hates salmon, but Theomedes is the only one who sets the menu for the week with the head chef. Last week, they had roast beef and vegetables four times.
“You’re not still sulking are you?” Theomedes finally says, three minutes later.
Damen grips his table fork. He forces himself to do the breathing exercises Makedon had taught him.
In an ideal world, he wouldn’t reply, but in this one, everyone answered to the King.
“No, sir,” Damen says, and shoves a polite bite of food in his mouth.
“You haven’t had a meal with me in three weeks,” Theomedes says, and he sounds hurt and disappointed.
“Hmm,” Damen says. “I’ve been busy. You know I’ve been working on the preservation of Marlas with Nikandros.”
Theomedes crosses his fork and knife over his plate. Instantly, three different staff members rush forward to clear the table.
Damen’s plate is cleared too; no one eats after the King has left. Another useless, bane tradition.
“You know I did what’s best for you,” Theomedes says, looming over Damen.
When Damen nods, Theomedes kisses his temple. “You’ll realise it sooner, rather than later.”
“Yes, sir,” Damen says quietly, and rises only after Theomedes has left, as is protocol.
*
An hour later, the itch under Damen’s skin becomes unbearable, and he finds himself burrowing under the left corner of his mattress for certain… supplies.
He pulls on the red, shoulder-length curly wig with little care, and then the faux-leather beret. It’s peeling and terrible, but Damen doesn’t care.
The rest of his outfit is just layers: sunglasses, two coats, scarves, and a muted shirt, to hide as much of his body as possible.
He normally doesn’t leave so early in the day, when he’s being patrolled by guards and the Kyros.
Luckily, it’s only Nikandros who catches him, right outside his door.
His expression is flat. “You’re not serious. You’re leaving now? We’re in the middle of drafting the Delpha treaty!”
Damen shrugs. “I have to go.”
“You don’t have to—” Nikandros cuts himself off with a sigh. “Whatever. Can you please bring me back those caramel slices?”
Damen grins. “You got it, boss.”
Once he’s past the Main Foyer, the rest of the journey is easy: Damen takes an hour and a half train ride from Central Ios to Andris, and then a fifteen minute bus ride on the eighty-six. And then finally, an eight minute walk to the Andris Office District.
There’s a small bookstore there called Pocket Bookmark, painted emerald green, the lettering done in gold.
Inside, it’s not too busy: it’s not quite the end of a business day, and the customers in here are high school students, skimming the Shakespeare section, and a man hovering near the new releases.
Damen keeps his head down, weaving through the aisles.
Nicaise, the mouthy teenage cashier rolls his eyes when he sees Damen approaching, lifting up the wooden flap on on the bench, allowing Damen to duck through.
“Thanks, kid,” Damen says, mussing his hair.
“Ah, fuck off,” Nicaise grunts, but fondly. He’s warmed up to Damen ever since Damen bought him his first car. (Nothing too flashy, obviously).
Damen hurries all the way to the back, opening the door marked, No entry, and then goes up the narrow steps, which always make the worst creaking noises.
There’s another door a the small porch upstairs, and Damen fishes out the key in his pocket to open it.
Instantly, he’s hit with the smell of butter chicken simmering on the stove, and his mouth salivates. He dumps his entire attire by the small settee in the hallway, inhaling gratefully.
The second thing he’s greeted with is Wendy, who meows and claws at his leg.
“Come here, baby,” Damen murmurs, picking her up and holding her to his chest. She purrs and curls up, like a big ball of fluff and he kisses her head. “I love you so much.”
She meows in response, and snuggles closer.
Laurent turns off the stove in the tiny kitchen. He looks over his shoulder for just a second and scrunches his nose. “Ugh, she’s such a slut. I’ve been petting her for the last hour, but apparently I’m just not good enough.”
Laurent is in his after work attire: which means he’s as half dressed as possible. The shirt he’s wearing is one of Damen’s, and his shorts are the pair that shrunk in the wash; they ride too high up his thigh.
Laurent’s just come out of the shower: the hair at his nape is still wet, and his skin is pinked and glowing. Even with the curry, Damen can smell jasmine and coconut.
Laurent has got this sweet, soft smile that lights up his eyes.
It takes Damen’s breath away: not just Laurent, but this entire picture of domesticity. It’s all Damen’s wanted his entire life.
He means to make a snarky comment about Wendy, but what comes out is: “Marry me.”
Laurent drops the wooden spoon, eyes wide.
Damen grips Wendy too tightly and she lets out a shriek and jumps out of his arms.
They stare at each other for a moment. Damen’s heart is racing.
Laurent blinks. “Oh, sorry. I think I hallucinated for a minute.”
Damen steps forward, smiling. “It wasn’t a hallucination. Marry me.”
Laurent makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “Are you asking me or telling me?” He swallows, eyes darting all over Damen’s face, his body. “I don’t see a ring,” he says quietly.
Damen groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, I know. I had this whole plan, I was going to propose with the Queen’s ring, but obviously I’d have to talk to my father first and—” He sits down at the kitchen table, pulling out his phone. “There’s a courthouse ten minutes from here. It’s Thursday night, so they’re still open. We just need to show up with a signed ‘Intended Marriage Certificate’. It’s like three pages, we’ll be fine.”
“…Oh.” Laurent has gone very still. “You’re looking up courthouses. You’re serious.”
“Shit,” Damen says, watching him. “I’m so sorry. You—Do you want to marry me, Laurent? Because I’ve been dying to marry you since I first saw you. Er. No pressure, though.”
Laurent glares at him, affronted. “Of course I want to marry you, you fucking idiot!”
Damen leaps to his feet, grinning and flushed. “Fuck yeah! Let’s go print this form and—”
“Damen!” Laurent laughs, looking a little crazed. “We can’t just—Just wait a minute.”
“Alright. Shoot, baby.”
Predictably, Laurent flushes pink. “Is it even legal? Aren’t there special ceremonies for royals? And—and the King still thinks we broke up!”
Damen winces a little at that.
After an entire year of sneaking around, of meeting up in discreet hotels, and making plans to move in together one day, Damen had fucked up three weeks ago.
Drunk and enamoured, he had kissed Laurent outside his bookstore after a date. There had been photos—and the only saving grace had been the fact that Laurent’s face had been inscrutable.
But the fact that he was a commoner had been enough for Theomedes to unleash his rage. He had ordered Damen to break things off with Laurent, and Damen had pretended to, but… Well, Laurent had been hurt. It had been the first time he had realised how shaky their entire relationship was, how quickly it could come crumbling down.
Damen had spent days convincing him otherwise, and Laurent had finally agreed, but there had still been shadows in his eyes.
Now—now, though, Damen realises exactly what he can do, what he should have done months ago, to make Laurent realise he’s it.
“Fuck the King,” Damen says. He finally closes the distance between them, gripping Laurent’s hands. “Laurent, listen. I can still get married legally in a civil ceremony.”
“But—” Laurent bites his lip. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. And,” His voice grows small. “I know there’s so many rules and traditions you have to follow. I’ve read about the whole tradition where your father is supposed to gift you a diptych piece.”
Damen’s heart is warm. He smiles down at Laurent, smitten. “You’ve read up on royal wedding traditions?”
Laurent colours even more. “Of course.”
Damen kisses him hard, unable to bare the love swelling up inside him. Laurent flings his arms around Damen’s neck, his mouth emitting small, sweet gasps.
When they pull apart, Damen presses his forehead to Laurent’s. “Fuck the King,” he repeats. “Fuck the customs and rules and traditions. You are the only thing that matters to me. Just forget everything for a moment and answer: do you want to go downtown and marry me?”
Laurent’s smile overtakes his face, his eyes shining. “Yes,” he says softly. “I want to—so much.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you in a better way or give you a ring or—”
“Stop. This was absolutely perfect.” He sighs. “You’re perfect.”
Damen kisses him again, pressing him to the counter. “I want you to have my mother’s ring.”
Laurent buries his head into Damen’s chest, overwhelmed. He nods.
Damen drops a kiss to his hair. “Get changed, baby. We’re getting married.”
Laurent looks up at him in wonder. “We’re getting married.”
#yes this is rushed what about it!!!!! 🤧😤#just kidding i still hope u enjoy#lamen week 2021#captive prince#my writing#my fic
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chasing a feeling - spencer reid
Warnings: angsty, a lot of cursing, smut (nothing too explicit; just a pretty heated make-out session)
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: You and the young doctor used to date. Now, years later, you were back in Spencer’s life - much to his dismay. A/N: it kinda takes a bit to get into so i’m thinking maybe of making a part two cause there was soo much more i wanted to write?? // PART TWO IS UP NOW, link at the bottom
-
“There has to be some mistake.” Spencer exclaimed, an irritated expression now outlined his facial features. “It’s not a mistake.” Emily stated calmly as she sat back down in her chair, eyeing the doctor in front of her with caution almost as if she was waiting for him to blow. But he didn't say anything.
Instead, he was looking down at this hands. Rather at the brown folder she handed him just minutes ago. A folder containing information about the BAU’s new team member. Your information.
He reread your name over and over again. Praying this wasn't actually happening. Hoping this was a dream, a hallucination.
“Spencer, the decision has been made. She starts today.” His eyes darted up instantly to meet Emily’s. His jaw locked. Yes, he was angry. Of course he was angry; as she suspected he would be once the news broke. And in his own mind, he had every right to be.
“I hope you don’t think that because we know each other I’ll be the one showing her around.” He spat flinging the folder onto the desk in front of him. It landed with a soft thud. Emily sighed slightly taken aback by his attitude. She’s never seen him act this way. This wasn’t the Spencer Reid she’s worked with all these years.
“I’ve already asked JJ to take Y/N under her wing.” Spencer flinched at the sound of your name. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. No. He shook the thought away. To him, at this moment in time, you were anything but. Evil incarnate. Better.
There was a brief moment of silence.
“Spencer, if you want to talk-” “I’m fine.” He interrupted and hurried out of the room. Emily watched him cross the bullpen and disappear behind the glass door. She let out a deep breath while glancing at the clock on her wall. You should be arriving any minute now.
The elevator door opened with a quiet ‘ding’. Taking a deep breath you stepped out where Emily was waiting with a smile on her face. She immediately reached out and shook your hand. “Hi again Y/N, welcome to the BAU.” You squeezed her hand gently - hoping she wouldn't sense your nervousness. “It’s definitely good to be here. Thank you for this opportunity.”
Emily let your hand fall. Still smiling she said; “No need to thank me. Your professional reputation precedes you, I would be a fool not to hire you.” "Still, it’s an honour.”
You followed her through the bullpen. She showed you your desk, pointed to where her office is: “I’ll have JJ give you a more detailed tour later on but right now we have a case.”. You nodded in understanding. “Yes, I packed a go-back when you rang me this morning. It’s in my car.” “Perfect.”
Emily led you to a conference room where you were greeted by the rest of the team. There wasn’t time for deep introductions, just quick shakes off the hand in between a ‘nice to meet you’ or ‘good to have you on the team’. Although one person was missing from the welcome wagon. And you weren't the only one to notice.
“Where’s Reid?” Emily asked glancing around the table. She motioned for you to sit down in one of the empty chairs, which you did. “Spence said he’ll meet us on the jet.” It was the petite blonde who spoke, JJ. “Apparently he had something he needed to do before we left.” Emily nodded. She glanced at you with an apologetic look before turning her attention to the screen at the top of the room.
“Let’s get started.”
As the team discussed details of the case, you stayed silent. You should be paying attention. Your first case with the BAU, your first day. Concentrate. Yet instead your gaze still wondered to the empty seat.
You shouldn't be surprised that he didn't want to be here. A part of you was relieved, however, another part of you was quite hurt. You thought maybe after all these years he wouldn't have cared anymore. Clearly you were wrong. He’s not worth it. And he wasn't. So you shook the weird feeling away and turned your attention to the screen.
Later on the jet, you didn't want to cause a scene once the young doctor finally showed himself therefore you settled into a seat as far away from the rest of the group as possible. You looked out the window, onto the grey tarmac and waited. What you were waiting for exactly you had no idea. If he didn't want to see you earlier, he definitely wouldn't want to see you now. Except now he had no choice.
“Hey, are you okay?” Your thoughts were interrupted and you looked up to find Luke smiling down at you. “First day jitters.” You lied smoothly. He grinned. “Definitely know how that feels. You’re doing great so far.” You smiled as he plopped herself down on the empty armchair in-front of you.
There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked back outside. “So a little birdie told me you knew Reid before his time at the BAU. What was he like?” Luke inquired, making conversation. Your palms began to sweat. How would you even begin to tell him what Spencer was like? Did you even remember correctly? Or was the image you had imbedded in your brain a figment of your imagination; what you wanted to remember.
“Uhm. He was shy.” You smiled to yourself at the thought of the young doctor always tugging nervously at the hem of his shirt. “Well he’s definitely far from that now.” Luke chuckled and added: “Yeah he’s eh, he’s been through a lot in the last year alone. This job squeezes the shyness right out of you.”
And like a ghost from your past he appeared. Almost as if he heard you talking about him. Spencer Reid. He looked different than you remembered. More grown up, older, tired. Handsome. You sat up straight in your seat; your eyes glued to the boy you were in love with all those years ago. The brown haired doctor stood at the top of the plane, a stern look on his face. He scanned the plane looking for a place to sit. That’s when his eyes landed on you.
The air caught in your throat as your eyes locked. Should you wave? No. Smile? Definitely not. Your mind raced a million miles per second wondering what the appropriate thing to do would be while Spencer simply turned away; his attention no longer on you.
“Do you want to go say hello?” Luke asked following your gaze. “Maybe later.” You replied, focused Spencer. From the corner of your eye you could see him nod. He wanted to say something else but he held himself back. “If you don’t mind I’m gonna catch up on some sleep.” He made himself comfortable and without waiting for you to respond dozed off.
Spencer sensed you still looking at him. Why were you looking at him? He wanted nothing more than to scream, tell you to stop, but he was a professional. Spencer Reid was a professional and he wasn't going to let you ruin- ruin- ruin what exactly? He shook the thought away. You were bound to ruin something.
He knew deep down he was being irrational. It has been years since the two of you last saw each other. A lot has happened since then, a lot has changed. Spencer wondered if you changed. He found himself secretly hoping you didn't; you were perfect. No, no. He gritted his teeth causing his jaw to clench.
He glanced in the direction of your seat - why, he did not know. Curiosity maybe. Or did he just want to look at you again. But your seat was empty.
Instead you were stood by the coffee machine, trying to figure out how the pesky thing worked. He couldn't help but snicker under his breath amused. If he was to state the obvious physically you hadn't aged a day. Your hair was different, longer and a slightly lighter colour. He wondered if it still smelled the same. Coconut. Damn it. How could you still have such an effect on him?
In that moment he decided to bite the bullet. Better to get it over with and this was his chance. Suddenly feeling nervous Spencer took a step forward and began to approach you.
“Hi there.” The words came out croaky. No response. You didn't even look up from the machine. Spencer cleared his throat. “You need to turn it off and back on. It’s pretty old so often it needs an additional nudge before it starts working.”
He pressed the button restarting the coffeemaker. Spencer relaxed beside you; he was so close you could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating to say the least. The blood in your veins was pumping faster than it has been all day.
And as if his sudden closeness wasn't bad enough, he reached over to grab the mug you were gripping tightly in your hands. His fingers brushed against yours in the process sending an immense tingle down your spine. He froze for a moment and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt it too.
Eventually, you let out a breath you didn't even realise you were holding. “I thought maybe you would pretend I don't exist.” Spencer huffed at your comment rolling his eyes. The machine began to purr and a black liquid slowly poured into your cup. “I can't ignore you forever. We work together now.”
That last sentence came out harsh. You noticed immediately and your gaze darted up to meet his. The look in his eyes was one you haven't seen before. Dark, hateful even. “If you have something to say just say it. If not, leave me alone.” You hissed as you stared up at him. The coffee machine beeped.
You began to reach for your beverage but Spencer grabbed you by the arm, intercepting, and pulled you in closer to him. His grip strong. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden movement.
“Let me go.” You hissed as you stared back up at him. His clutch on your arm tightened - it was starting to become uncomfortable but you weren't going to let him know that. You only hoped the rest of the team couldn't sense the rising tension and weren't paying attention to this cumbersome reunion.
“Why are you here? Why are you back Y/N?” Spencer finally asked in an ominous tone. “I’m here to work.” You replied confidently. He scoffed pressing your arm harder into his chest. You could feel his anger spike. His body heat radiating against you due to the proximity of your stance.
“What, Los Angeles wasn't big enough for your ego?” He jeered. “Gee Spencer, I didn't think you were keeping tabs on me. Careful or I might start to think you still care.” You sneered in a mocking tone. It was the wrong thing to say, you knew that. You knew it would only get him angrier. And he did.
His blood boiled like lava. You could see the hatred smouldering across his facial features, eyes narrowed. He wanted to explode. If it wasn't for where the two of you currently stood he would allowed for the darkness to swallow him whole. You sensed it. He was aware you sensed it. Even after all this time no-one knew him better than you. Perhaps that’s why he was so bitter.
“Quite frankly Y/N, I don't give a fuck about you.” He spat letting your arm fall.
The words stung. Your face fell and for a split second his demeanour changed. A glimmer of sorrow in his eyes. His lips parted almost as if to say something - apologise maybe. But the moment passed quickly and within seconds he was cold again. “Enjoy your coffee.” He muttered before turning on his heel and walking away.
A lone tear dripped slowly down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before anyone noticed and grabbed your drink, sulking back in your seat.
Remainder of the flight was uneventful. The team gathered together once again shortly before landing for a quick briefing. Together you went through any last minute developments in the case. This time you participated, not letting Spencer’s tense poise distract you. Once the meeting concluded Emily divided you into teams of two - thankfully she paired you with JJ meaning you got to avoid Spencer the rest of that afternoon.
You didn't see him again until much later that evening at the local station. He stood by the bulletin board, deep in thought working up the geographical profile.
JJ asked if you wanted a coffee, you said yes. Spencer’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice but he didn't look away from the map. JJ turned to Spencer with the same question, he simply shook his head and she disappeared leaving you with the young doctor.
Neither of you said a word. He focused on his own work as you reached for the box of the first victims journals you gathered with JJ. Picking up the first one you began to read through it - pacing. Spencer watched you now. Just like he used to all those years ago. He always found it odd that you liked reading while walking around. A small smile circled his lips at the familiarity of it all, but as soon as you glanced up at him the smile faded.
Soon enough JJ returned with the coffees. You thanked her as she sat down, grabbing a journal from the box. Her presence eased the rising tension you could slowly feel forming.
“Does ‘blind pig’ mean something other than the animal?” JJ asked taking a sip of her hot beverage. “Yes-” You and Spencer replied simultaneously. You locked eyes for an awkward moment. Spencer cleared his throat, averting his ogling, as you turned to JJ. “A blind pig can also stand for a place where alcoholic drinks are served illegally.”
“The first victim references that phrase in almost every entry.” JJ said, showing you one of the poorly scribbled annotations. “I’ll ask one of the officers if they know of any restaurants or bars that partake in such activities.” You said placing your coffee and the journal you were reading on the table. “Good luck. They weren't very forthcoming earlier according to Emily.” She smiled encouragingly before turning her attention back to the notebook in her hand.
Spencer on the other hand found himself following you with his gaze. He watched as you approached one of the policemen. Your hips swaying elegantly from side to side. He watched how you flicked your hair over your shoulder almost in a flirtatious way, a warm full smile appearing on your face. He watched as you laughed at something the officer said, tilting your neck slightly backwards and placing your hand gently on his bicep.
An unfamiliar feeling stirred inside of him. Was it jealousy? No. Spencer Reid wasn't jealous because you were casually seducing some crook of a man. His fists clenched at his side, fingernails digging deep into the palms of his own hands.
Oblivious to the brown haired doctor staring you down, you continued talking with the officer. “I wouldn't normally ask this, but honestly I’m perplexed and I was hoping you would be able to help me.” You fluttered your eyelashes feeling sick to your stomach that flirting was the only way to get some information. But it worked. Soon enough you were strutting back to where JJ and Spencer where now joined by the rest of your team - a printout of all the places serving alcohol illegally in one hand and the officers number jotted on a napkin in the other.
“Nice going.” JJ grinned as you handed her the list. “That poor guy didn't stand a chance.” Rossi affirmed with a quiet laugh. Matt and Luke chuckled together soon joined by Emily. The only person that wasn't amused by your theatrics was Spencer. “Yes, whoring yourself out is really a display of skill.”
The group immediately fell silent. “Reid.” Emily’s tone of voice was far from pleasant as she glared at the young doctor.
“Spence-” JJ began but you cut her off. “You’d think with an IQ of 187 you would know by now how not to be a fucking prick doctor Reid.” You hissed and tossed the napkin, which was now curled into a tight ball, right at his head - missing only because he ducked. You excused yourself calmly and briskly rushed out of there.
The cold breeze hit your skin the second you stepped outside. Your break down followed shortly after. Hiding behind one of the pillars to the side of the building you burst into loud sobs - once the floodgates opened they were hard to control. A sweep of tears escaped your eyes, trailing down your face like a waterfall. It was hard to breathe. Your fingers desperately fidgeted with the buttons of your shirt hastily undoing the top few. You placed your hand on your chest, heart thumping.
Through your heavy cries you didn't hear the door swing open behind. “Y/N?” A familiar voice called out, the cause of your current waterworks.
It didn't take long for him to find you - hunched behind a pillar, one hand on your chest while the other held your head. Cautiously, he ambled towards you leaving only a step between his body and your own. He reached out and gently took your hand away from your face; it was slightly wet from all the tears you caught in it. You didn't look at him so he closed the space between you and placed a finger under your chin, tilting your head up.
“Congratulations, I guess you got what you wanted.” You whimpered, the look in your eyes completely broken. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly confused. “This isn't what I wanted.” He whispered. “Really? Could've fooled me.” You muttered in between your sobs, trying to free yourself from his strong grip.
He didn’t say anything. He didn't know what to say. Tell you he regretted that sentence the second it escaped his lips? You wouldn't believe him. Apologise? Yes, he should probably apologise. But as he opened his mouth nothing came out. He looked at you with a sense of hopelessness, this was not what he wanted to happen. “You have to believe me Y/N. I didn't mean-” “Forget it Spencer, I don't want to hear it.” You cried attracting unwanted attention from passersby.
“I knew this would be difficult, seeing you after all this time and having to work together-” You took a deep breath. “-but I thought we’d at least be mature about it!” Your sadness dissolved into anger. You mustered enough strength to free yourself from his embrace, slightly pushing him back. That was enough for Spencer to get angry too - it was unwarranted yes, but he couldn't help it. Fight fire with fire.
“God Y/N, you are so entitled!” He hissed taking a step forward, once again closing the space between you. “You only look out for yourself!” He jabbed his finger into you; just under your collarbone. “You are the one that left!” Jab. “You are the one that chose to come back!” Jab. “You are the one that fucking ruins everything!” Jab. Jab. Jab.
“And you are the one acting like a dick about it!” You groaned aggravated. He gritted his teeth - you stroke a nerve. A sense of satisfaction overcame you; so you continued. “The only one with a problem here is you!” It was your turn to poke him and you made sure to do it hard. He didn't like that. He grabbed your finger, pulling it away from himself. His hand then slid until your wrist was wrapped tightly in his hand.
He had all the power. And he knew it too.
The two of you continued yelling insults at each other. You called him “irrational”, “immature”, and “a complete asshole” - amongst other curses. He resorted to bringing up your troubled heated past whilst calling you “crazy” and “a bitch”. Tension rose with every spoken sentence - your faces mere inches away from each other. You could feel his hot breath against your skin as he jeered how much he hated you. The look in his eyes was infuriation, but there was something else. Arousal? Impossible.
“Do you know why you hate me so much?” You provoked. “Because I don’t stroke your ego. Because all those years ago I decided to follow my own path rather than stay and entertain you like everyone else in your pathetic life!” His jaw clenched. “And I think you're feeling insecure now that I’m back and working with this team because I know things-” “Shut up.” He whispered but you ignored him. “-I know things that could ruin you.” “SHUT UP!”
The sound of his roar caused a couple of people to stop in their path and look towards the two of you. The door flung open and an officer stepped outside to check whether everything was okay, but Spencer was quick to dismiss him.
Seconds passed in which Spencer composed himself. Taking a step back he let go of your wrist and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked around, in search of what to say next. You however celebrated this small victory. A smirk appeared on your face and you couldn't help but let out a satisfied laugh.
“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna head back inside.” You said coyly. He didn't protest. He didn't even look at you. The smirk on your face faded. The anger began to dissipate. “For what it’s worth if I knew things would be this hostile between us, I wouldn't have taken the job.”
With that being said, you were about to walk around the pillar when he grabbed you again. Your back pressed to the cold brick and Spencer’s assailed against you. No escape. He leaned down, tilting his head slightly, and you felt your body give way to his unspoken suggestion.
His mouth slanted over yours - all options to deny him taken away. His hands flew to your face cupping it hastily as his fingers buried in your hair, tangling themselves in the thickness. Your arms slid around his waist, trailing upwards, and feeling the hard muscles of his back. Both your heads rotated back and forth to vary pressure. His mouth was possessive and it didn't take long for his tongue to breach your lips.
All of the emotions that had been churning rose to the surface and exploded all at once - your heart felt like it was on a rampage. The kiss now deeper than ever. Your tongues dancing together, each trying to assert dominance. Spencer bit down on your bottom lip vigorously causing a velvety moan to escape your mouth. The smooth sound of pleasure only fuelled the doctor more as he pushed himself into you more and you felt his member twitch in his pants.
After what seemed like forever, he pulled away. The pause was brief allowing you to only to catch a quick breath, and in the space of a heartbeat Spencer lowered his mouth back down to yours with immense passion and desire. Your legs felt like rubber as you leaned into him completely. He explored your mouth as his hands nonchalantly made their way from your face down to your collar.
Now that he’s tasted your lips, after all this time apart, he found himself only wanting more.
Spencer grazed you roughly with his nails before binding one hand steadily around your neck - giving it a soft squeeze. The other hand continued down your chest, his fingers making their way inside your half-opened blouse. Your whole body was on fire. As was his.
Slowly, he broke the kiss. Both of you breathless. A hungry look spread across his facial features; now you definitely saw arousal in his eyes. He let his hands fall down by his sides, but his body weight was still pressed into you. He tried to organise his thoughts. Which was impossible to do with you standing right there - your eyes wide open, hair ruffled, mouth slightly parted swollen and red from the kiss. Fuckable.
He moved away from you because he knew if he didn't his lips would once again find yours. He watched you collect yourself. Fix your blouse, wipe the corners of your mouth with your fingers, adjust your skirt, flatten your hair. None of that helped however; he still wanted to devour you.
When you finally met his gaze there was a hint of regret in your eyes. All the dirty thoughts and scenarios he had piling in his brain disappeared momentarily because Spencer knew that look all too well - there was an invisible line you had drawn and the two of you crossed it.
“Tell Emily she’ll have my resignation letter in the morning.” Your voice a bare whisper.
He opened his mouth to say something, to tell you he was sorry for everything. Sorry for the arguments, the name calling, for ruining your first day, sorry for the kiss. He wanted to take your hand, and tell you that there was a way the two of you could work together after all. That you didn't need to do this. That he was glad you were back.
But no words came out. His throat locked up. He stood frozen like a deer in headlights and simply followed you with his gaze as you hailed a taxi and disappeared into the night.
-
| PART TWO | PART THREE |
masterlist
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid smut
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Not a Spying, Not a Fake Date
The day Marinette met Adrien Agreste—the hottest supermodel alive, an only son of fashion icon Gabriel Agreste, and her long-time, embarrassing celebrity crush—was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Instead, not only did she present herself as a total klutz, but his friend Nino had stolen Alya only two weeks later.
On a Saturday afternoon, no less!
Don’t get her wrong. Marinette was happy that Alya finally was interested in a guy more than the latest scoop. And she absolutely didn't mind skipping one of their weekly get-togethers in favour of her BFF going on a coffee date with their new classmate. Marinette wouldn’t be bored. She could work on one of her projects or play video games… if the day wouldn't be so perfectly gorgeous and sunny. Wasting it inside would’ve been a crime. A walk around a local farmer’s market, on the other hand, sounded just about right. And if said market happened to be across the street from where her friend was meeting Nino, that was a pure coincidence.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Marinette was absolutely not spying on anyone, and if she glanced the couples’ way once or twice, it was only to appease her morbid curiosity. No harm done. She wasn’t interfering. She couldn’t even hear what the two of them were talking about. Surely not about Adrien. Or her. Or her and Adrien. Nope. No way. Impossible. She wasn’t curious at all.
“You know you aren’t very subtle?”
Marinette froze, her blood running cold. She knew that voice. It was ingrained in her memory by now. But there was no way Adrien Agreste was standing right behind her, whispering in her ear. It must be nothing but a product of her imagination. Yes! A hallucination of a post-pubescent girl with a crush of irrational proportions.
Still, she spun around just to check if it was time to make an appointment with a therapi—
Her jaw hit the floor, eyes widening. The man in front of her sounded like Adrien, yet he barely looked the part. Most of his hair was hidden under a beanie, a pair of glasses framed his face. Baggy, black clothes covered his body. His chiselled jaw sported a light stubble, and a hippy backpack was slung over his shoulders. Not a shred of his classy self left, replaced by a sexy, casual chic version of the man.
“Adrien?”
He winked. “Looking beautiful as always, Princess.”
Her cheeks flamed despite her knowing better. He’d given her that nickname only because she was a clumsy mess, not because he was trying to flirt. Princess, aka "damsel in distress", someone in need of being saved. In her case, frequently being caught before she hit the ground as she kept tripping around him. Stupid Agreste and his stupidly handsome face.
A movement in the cafe caught her eye, and Marinette nervously grinned. Adrien was Nino’s best friend. There was no way he wouldn't know where Nino was taking Alya for their first date, which meant Marinette better be very careful in her words and actions, or else she wouldn’t be the damsel for much longer. The title of a “Creepy Stalker” didn't sound the bit least appealing to her.
“You look nice too,” she said, looking her best innocent self. “Different. I barely recognized you. I like the glasses. And stubble. Stubble is nice. Little of it. Not too much. Too much would look shabby. But yours looks good. Perfect. Not shabby at all.”
He chuckled, a corner of his lips curling into a smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. It was one. A compliment.”
“Why, thank you.”
Another couple left the cafe, catching both of their attention. Marinette quickly shifted her gaze to the apples at the stall she was standing by. As long as she acted natural, Adrien wouldn't suspect a thing.
“So, what are you doing here today?”
She inwardly groaned and stashed a few apples in a paper bag. “Apples. I’m here for the apples.”
“What a coincidence.” Adrien picked one of the red ones and twirled it in his hand. “I’m here for the apples too. By the way… Nino just asked for the bill, so if you were planning to do more shopping in other places, I’d say that’s our cue to pay for these and get ready to leave.”
Marinette glared his way, her whole face burning up. That cocky smile, that glint in his eyes. Of course, he’d catch her. But she wouldn’t give up so easily or she wasn’t Marinette Dupain-Cheng: her papa’s pumpkin, her mother’s sweetheart, the future of Paris’ fashion! “I’m not spying on anyone if that’s what you’re implying.”
“I wouldn't dare to accuse you of such a thing.” He grinned, putting the apple back. “But… may I suggest a few tweaks to your disguise? You know, in case you’re still up for some non-spying activities today.”
“I don’t need any tweaks. I’ve been here for an hour, and they haven’t noticed me. I could tail them all day if I wanted to, and they would not notice me.”
She froze, the last of her hopes to escape this unscathed vanishing right before her eyes. Curse this man! It was his fault her brain was shutting down around him.
The corner of Adrien’s lips curled in a smile as he leaned closer. “You might be well hidden amongst the rainbow of produce here, but, believe me, as soon as you step outside, that bright red hoodie of yours will give you away instantly.”
“In your dreams,” Marinette huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “This hoodie is the only thing in my closet Alya hasn't seen yet. My sunglasses cover half of my face, and I let my hair down instead of my usual ponytails. They would never recognize me.”
“Well, I did, didn’t I?”
“That’s because you came close. They are at a distance.”
“Nino will notice someone trailing them in a bright red hoodie. Believe me, that man lets no detail escape him. But give me five minutes, and your own parents won’t recognize you even up close.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “What for? The date is over.”
“Far from it. Nino planned coffee, a walk around the city, and a movie. He bought the tickets this morning.”
Adrien seemed to be confident in what he was saying, but Marinette couldn’t trust someone she’d recently met over her best friend, even if she was in love with him. “I don’t believe you.”
“There is only one way to find out if I’m lying.” He stretched his hand towards her. “Shall we?”
Shall they what? Why was he even here? She had to get out of the house for physical rest and mental health. What was his excuse?
“And what are you doing here, M Agreste?”
“I told you already.” The corners of his lips curled up in a sly grin. “Apples.”
“Right. And you went all out on a disguise for that?”
“Precisely.” He grinned wider. “I also knew Nino was having a date nearby, and being the great friend I am, I didn’t want them to see me and think I’m spying on them.”
She wanted to smack that shit-eating grin off his face. But Nino and Alya were exiting the cafe, and Adrien tilted his head to the side, his hand still outstretched toward her. “So? Want to not spy on them some more, or do you have other plans for the day?”
No, she didn’t, and perhaps she should be smarter, but something inside her was melting by the second, Adrien’s smile slowly massacring any scraps of reason she still had. “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny every word.”
“No one shall ever know.” He grinned. “Now, may I suggest a few tweaks to your disguise? To minimize our chances of being discovered.”
“Fine, but be quick. They are walking away.”
Adrien nodded and pointed to her hoodie. “Take this off.”
There was no time for questions, so she silently obeyed. The moment Marinette removed the garment, Adrien was already pulling his black sweater over her head.
“Wait! What are you—“
“Black is less conspicuous.”
“But what about you? It’s chilly, and your shirt doesn’t look very warm.”
“I’ll be fine. I wore that sweater for fashion, not because I was cold.” Stuffing her hoodie in his backpack, he looked her over once more. His face suddenly brightened. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out to the street in the direction of the nearest convenience store.
“We don’t have time for this,” Marinette protested as they neared the door of said establishment. “We’ve already lost them.”
“No, we didn't. We might not see them, but I know where they are.”
“I know that, too,” she grumbled. “In Paris. Where else? Europe, Eurasia. Planet Earth, Solar system. Hard to miss if you fly toward the Sun. ”
Adrien laughed. Long and heartfelt, the sound of his laughter brightened the space around them. There was still a glint of joy in his eye and a hint of mischief in his voice when he recomposed himself. “Nino spent hours planning their route yesterday, and yours truly was helping him. I know where they are headed. We’ll catch up.”
Hesitantly relenting, she followed him in the store, and once inside, Adrien disappeared somewhere between the rows. When he walked out, he was carrying a hairbrush, a couple of pins and hair ties, a small mirror, a plastic tablecloth, and a can of temporary hair dye. Quickly paid for, Adrien pulled her into the nearby alley. "Do you trust me enough for a blind makeover?"
A loaded question. She hardly knew anything about the man behind the carefully crafted image of his public persona. But Marinette loved surprises, and it wasn’t like Adrien even had anything that could potentially cause serious damage to her appearance in his hands.
“You aren’t going to cut my hair, are you?”
“Wouldn’t dare to even think about it.”
“Strangle me with that tablecloth?”
“It’s to protect your clothes from the dye. And before you freak out, it’s a temporary one. It’ll wash out with the first shower.”
At least it was pink—her favourite colour. "Don't make me regret this, Agreste."
“I promise, you won’t.”
She sent a glare his way. “If I do, you’re dead.”
Adrien laughed and slightly bowed. “Your trust means the world to me, Princess. Now, if you’ll allow me, I shall start.”
Marinette nodded, removing the sunglasses from her face. Adrien quickly draped the plastic tablecloth around her shoulders. The moment his hands ran through her hair, her brain short-circuited. It felt like heaven. Pleasant tingles cascaded down her skin at every touch as he brushed, tied, and clipped for what felt like an eternity yet was way too short of a period before he whispered in her ear, “Close your eyes and hold your breath for me for a moment.”
That would not be a problem; Marinette wasn’t sure she was breathing for the last few minutes anyway. He was too close. She could feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath, and that was doing things to her she’d rather not experience in a random alley off a busy street in the middle of Paris.
Oblivious to her internal turmoil, Adrien sprayed her hair with the temporary hair dye and proudly pronounced his job finished. The plastic tablecloth off her shoulders, he pushed a small mirror in her hands. “You can open your eyes and look now.”
Her speech was gone the moment her eyes caught her reflection. Most of her bangs were pinned back in the middle, only some of the hair framing her face on either side. The rest was gathered in two cute, messy buns on top of her head that had pink highlights all over them, something the tips of her bangs sported as well. It was a look she’d never thought of doing herself, yet somehow found herself loving more with each passing moment.
“Not bad,” she said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Are you secretly a stylist by any chance?”
Adrien chuckled, putting her sunglasses back on her nose. “Nope. But I did grow up in a fashion tycoon’s house watching makeup artists transform people to an unrecognizable degree with simple tricks.”
“Well, you have a talent, M Agreste. I really like this.”
"Why, thank you." Adrien grinned. "I do like the outcome, too. You were always cute, but now you're straight-up adorable. Like a little mouse. An extremely lovely little mouse. ”
Marinette looked away, taking a step towards a street. He wasn’t flirting. He was just complimenting his own work. He wasn’t flirting. “As long as Alya doesn’t recognize me.”
“She won’t.” Adrien followed her. “Hey! Maybe we should hold hands and pretend to be on a date? They’ll never figure us out if we do that.”
Her eyes widened as he offered her his hand. “Are you… are you asking me on a fake date?”
“Do you want me to ask you on a fake date?”
“I’ve never liked anything fake,” she huffed. “Says a lot about one’s character.”
Adrien chuckled. “Then it’s good that all I’m asking is to hold hands. For a better disguise, of course. Not faking. Real hand-holding.”
An earnest smile on his lips, he stepped closer, silently waiting for her reply.
Marinette swallowed, her eyes falling to his outstretched hand, one that looked more and more appealing to hold by the second. How would it feel to have her palm in his? If she chickened out now, she might not get another chance to find out. “Only for the purpose of a disguise.”
"Only for that," Adrien assured, entwining their fingers together, his gaze on her soft and gentle. "Allow me to be your guide on this non-spying, not-a-fake-date mission, Princess."
His words fell on deaf ears as Marinette struggled to keep her composure. Big, strong, and very warm. Somehow safe and secure. Like a lover’s embrace. Holding Adrien’s hand was everything Marinette didn’t know she needed up until now.
He must have noticed something was amiss, cracking a dumb joke to break the awkwardness as they started their walk. Marinette tried her best not to laugh, but Adrien kept going, each joke worse than the preceding one. Ten minutes in, and she couldn't believe she ever had a crush on this… man-child. Adrien was the dorkiest dork she'd ever met. A dork who asked too many questions. So many it felt like he wanted to know everything there was to Marinette. She didn't mind. There were quite a few things she wanted to know about Adrien, as well, and what better way to ask if not as a retaliation to his inquiries?
About an hour later, they spotted Nino and Alya on a promenade by the Seine, walking hand in hand just like them. Her friend beamed, laughing so hard, Marinette could swear there were tears in Alya’s eyes. Nino looked no less happy, grinning at Alya with a satisfied look on his face. A smile found its way onto Marinette’s face. Adrien watched them mesmerized, slightly tightening his grip on her hand.
“Everything looks good,” he said, turning to her. “Their next stop should be a music shop a few blocks away, and there are a few cafes just across the street. Want to get a headstart and have an early lunch?”
Marinette nodded. She could use a drink or two right now. A nice large glass of the cold water because Adrien seemed to take their… whatever-this-was way too seriously, being all attentive and gentlemanly and extra charming, and if not for his assurance they were not on a date, Marinette would’ve surely thought otherwise. Just as she suspected, her silly crush on this man seemed to slowly be turning into something more than a simple attraction. Something different. Something deeper and more profound.
“Awesome!” Adrien grinned, turning back to the town. “I’ll buy us movie tickets once we’re there. Where do you want to sit? I prefer the middle, but I’m pretty sure Nino got the middle row seats, so that’s a bit risky. Shall we try for the back row?”
A pinch of guilt nagged at Marinette. Another glance at their friends in the distance and she stopped, slowly pulling her hand from Adrien’s grasp, mourning the loss with every inch lost. “Perhaps, we should stop here.”
He halted his steps, looking down. Seemed like she wasn't the only one feeling guilty about this. “You’re right. This wasn't a good idea.”
“They deserve more than two stalkers for friends.”
“They do. I was just too curious. This is the first time Nino’s been so crazy about someone.”
“So you decided to secretly third wheel them?”
He gave her an unimpressed look. “You don’t get to judge me. We’re in the same boat in this. Apples and all.”
Marinette couldn't hold back a snicker.
Adrien interlocked his fingers behind his head, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I was really looking forward to that movie, though.”
“You’ll live.”
“Will I?”
“Absolutely, you big baby. Just go watch it by yourself if you want it so much.”
“But that’s not fun.”
“Better than stalking your friend on his date.”
“Then perhaps I should get my own. A date, I mean. For the movies.”
Marinette fell silent, her chest tightening. A guy like Adrien could have any girl he wished. And while she didn't think herself to be worse than anyone else, what were the chances he’d want her when girls like Kagami Tsurugi openly confessed their love to him?
“I guess you could,” she said, pulling out her cellphone to get an Uber.
“Then will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Go to the movies with me? Lunch and movies. A date. A real one. Nothing fake about it.” He was looking straight at her, a trembling smile on his lips, a soft glint in his eyes.
She blinked once. Twice. Her ears must be deceiving her. “Me?”
He nodded. “You.”
“But… Why?”
“Because I like you.” He stepped closer. “Because ever since you fell into my arms that first day, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Excuse me, but I did not fall into your arms!” Marinette huffed. Amazing or not, she wouldn't allow him to trample her reputation like that. “I just tripped, and you happened to stand in the trajectory of my fall. Or rather, you moved into it because, if my memory isn’t failing me—and my memory never fails me—you almost ran across the room to catch me.”
Adrien laughed. “Guilty as charged, but can you blame me? You’re amazing, Marinette. You’re smart and brave and confident and so very beautiful. A guy like me could only dream of being worthy of your attention.”
“You kidding me, right? A guy like you can have any girl he wants.”
“But there is only one I need,” he purred, leaning closer. “Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I’d be the happiest man alive if she’d give me a chance. I’m prepared to beg on my knees if that’s what it’ll take.”
Somehow, her hand was in his. He brought it to his lips and laid a lingering kiss on her knuckles. How could she say no to those eyes and that confident smoulder with a hint of childish worry behind it? The way she felt about him, she wouldn't want to say no even if her life depended on it. Marinette kept her eyes on Adrien's when she shifted her hand in his grasp, entwining their fingers together. "Only if we go to a different movie theatre. I don't want to run into Alya and have to explain things."
“Sounds good to me.”
“And we’re getting soulmate ice cream at Andre’s before that. I want to check if we’re meant to be before I commit to anything.”
Adrien laughed, pulling Marinette into a hug. “I’m pretty sure I won’t even have to bribe the man to get the result I want.”
“You’re way too confident, M Agreste, you know that, right?”
“Only when it really matters.”
“And is this one of those situations?”
His gaze soft and loving, Adrien leaned down, his lips gently brushing against the flustered skin of her cheek. “You’re at the top of my ‘Really Matters’ list, Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”
Another kiss to her nose, he lingered for a moment before whispering, “May I kiss you the way I know you want me to kiss you now? Or shall I wait until the end of our date?”
There was only one answer Marinette could give him. “Right now would be perfect.”
***
This is a reworked chapter from my upcoming "Dreams of You" story. If you're planning on reading it, don't be surprised to see part of this as one of the chapters. Hope you'll enjoy both of them!
#miraculous ladybug#adrienette#adrinetteapril2021#first date#fluff#they're stalkers and they know it#aged up
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ethereal | l.ty
pairing; demon!taeyong x reader
requested; yes! this was requested agessss ago haha,,, i hope you like it!!
summary; you’re not sure when your nighttime hallucinations started, but if they always appear in the form of lee taeyong, you’re not going to complain
genre/warnings; smut (fem receiving oral, sex, sex with a hallucination (?bro i literally don’t even know what to class this as?), overstim if you squint, kinda creepy maybe?), might class this as a kinda halloween esqe fic? sexy ethereal demon taeyong i guess
word count; 2.7k
when you wake in the middle of the night, hot air clinging to your body with a vice like grip, the only thing you feel is frustration. the window is still open from hours earlier when your ceiling fan proved futile as an attempt to combat the heat, a flimsy breeze floating through the room every now and then. a light layer of sweat shines off your skin and you feel weighed down with the grogginess of sleep and the jarring suddenness you had been pulled from your slumber.
in the corner of your room, safe from your vision due to the shadows, is a person. he stands straight backed against the edge of your wardrobe, wide eyes watching you intently as you pull the thin covers off your body, swinging your legs over the side of your bed to stand up. it’s been a while since he’s encountered a human as captivating as you, and the way the moonlight glistens off your skin pulls him in.
you rub your eyes with your hands and stretch your arms behind you as you realise sleep will not do you the favour of coming easy tonight. the cream silk of a nightdress hangs off your body and appears as if it’s floating in the dim light of the early morning. lee taeyong notices this and wishes for nothing more than to have the privilege to rid you of the item of clothing.
he should be used to this, the hunt before the reward, the chase that he always wins, but there’s something different about you. something that makes him want to take his time. you stand out in his mind against all the other humans he’s conquered, like a golden ticket inside his mind’s eye.
in this hour of the night, you are nothing short of the goddess he can only dream of. captivating, enamouring.
he wants you. and he will get you.
the third night you spend sleepless is when you start to loose it. the heat still wisps around you uncontrollably, impossible to catch relief from beside standing in the open door of your freezer. it follows you around and you start to question how you’re going to last the rest of summer if the heat doesn’t calm down.
it has you feeling on edge, useless. needy.
despite your efforts to ignore it, you can’t help but feel hot in a completely different way. the past few nights have been sleepless yes, but they haven’t been void of dreams that haunt you in the day. dreams where ethereal beings come and grant you your deepest wishes, your darkest desires. among all of them, there’s a reoccuring face that strikes so deep within you you almost feel empty at the thought he’s not real.
you’re not sure how you know his name, but lee taeyong is never far from the forefront of your mind.
a week passes of little sleep and even less freedom from your incessant lust-filled daydreams. you’re at the end of you tether and you’re convinced you’re hallucinating when the object of your grief stands before you.
the hour is just as late as when he first laid eyes on you, the night equally as static and humid. you want to scream, this strange man stood before your bed in the middle of the night, a predatory look upon his face, but you can’t seem to find a voice.
the white of his shirt shines like pearls against his skin, he is shimmering even without any light in the room. his hair is similar, a deep brown that still manages to appear illuminescent. his sharp features are paired with big eyes that stare down at you on your bed, frozen and unable to do anything other than stare up at him.
you can’t remember how long he’d been there. how did he get inside? why do you feel like he’s been there the entire time? the feel of the surroundings haven’t changed since he’s appeared and you come to the conclusion that he’s been there the entire time, invisible to the untrained eye and yet holding enough power to completely overtake a room. there’s the faintest quirk of a smile on his face as he peers down at you, like you’re a prized possession he can’t quite believe is real and right in front of him.
it’s off-putting, the way he stares at you with such needing intent and yet stands so unmovingly. he’s like a statue, you realise, a perfect replica of the most beautiful things the earth has to offer all in one place, one being. involuntarily, you feel a hand reach up to him, carefully, as if he’s a appartion from your imagination that will drift back into nothingness if you move too suddenly.
when his hand reaches down to meet yours, his skin is impossibly smooth, cool and yet soft. it feels like marble under the pads of your fingers as you drag one along the pad of his middle finger and into the palm of his hand, tracing the bluish veins that sit just under the surface of his wrist. there’s diamonds in his eyes as he stares at you, linking your fingers together and pulling the back of your hand up to his lips. unlike his hands, they are warm and your hand burns from the contact.
“angel, you’re so perfect.” the words are nothing more than a mere whisper on the wind that is now flowing through your bedroom, the temperature has dropped from impossibly hot to the perfect tepid warmth that sits against your skin nicely. his eyes trace your own, taking in the colour of your irises and the shine of them under him.
“who are you?” the voice doesn’t sound like your own but you fail to care, focus unable to stray from the stranger’s perfect face, your insides swirling when he quirks one side of his mouth up in a gentle smile.
“you already know, my dear.” there’s a wistful lilt to his voice and you jump slightly when the pad of his thumb brushes against the swell of your lower lip, eyes watching his movement carefully. you had never felt so safe and yet so on edge before.
“why are you here?”
“you ask too many questions.” it was less of a statement and more of a command to stop. it works immediately and you find your lips glued shut, unable to resist completely submitting yourself to this being before you. “there we go, isn’t that better?” he pokes with an easy smile at the silence that now settles between you. something about the praise is detrimental to your insides and a shiver of anticipation jolts through you.
for a moment, neither of you moves, there’s nothing but the perfect stillness of the night and the glowy cast that surrounds him to distract you. and then he starts leaning down closer to you, setting your hands that remain intertwined beside you on the bed and forcing you to move backwards until your feet leave the floor. slowly, like a lion approaching its prey, he crawls forward until your back is flush against the mattress and he is hovering on his free hand above you.
again, there is a second of painful silence where the world stops around you. in this moment, there is only you and this being who you somehow know as taeyong and the air between you, so full of expectation and the buzz of what’s to come.
and then he’s leaning down, slotting himself in the space where your legs naturally separate for him and pressing a first, soft, kiss to your lips. this is the moment where taeyong realises you are different from every other human he’s touched like this. your lips hold a warmth others can only imagine to possess, an addicting trace that leaves him breathless and suddenly uncertain of himself.
once his lips are separated from yours, you lean up to attach them once again. it fills you with such a new sense of want you can barely control your hands when they reach up to fist the fabric of his shirt, finding it almost impossibly soft against your skin, slipping through your fingers like sand.
when you touch him, taeyong mimics your action and lets himself lean into you so he can use his hands to toy with the thin straps of your nightdress. they skim around your neck and trail delicate twirls down your collarbones that have you shivering at the coldness. his hands continue on their pursuit downwards until they reach your breasts, kneading the soft flesh through the fabric. he swallows your moans when he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, the other hand pulling the strap down to reveal more of your skin.
as soon as your skin is bared in front of him, he tears his lips away from yours and drags them down your neck to your breast. his fingers continue their assault of your other nipple when he takes one into his mouth, sucking slightly and loving the way you arch up into him. the feeling is overwhelming, the coldness of his hands compared to the heat from his mouth. it has you weak and helpless in his grip.
when he satisfied with the purple bruises adorning one breast, he lets your nipple go with a pop and moves to treat the other the same way, gentle but firm hands and the teasing graze of his teeth on your most sensitive areas.
you don’t notice his hand slipping between you until his hand toys with the waistband of you panties and you almost moan from that alone. it’s nearly too much for you as taeyong finally delves his fingers under the last layer of fabric separating you, every nerve in your body tuned into him and nothing else, your skin in flames and you mind wandering the plane between conscious and more than that. you are so hyper aware to the feeling of him on top of you, every place your bodies touch is engrained in your memory, a channel of the feelings you share.
he indulges you with an experimental swipe over you clit before choosing to rub painfully slow circles around the spot you want him most. you could cry with need, your emotions so uncontrollable due to your desire. it’s as if taeyong can tell you can’t take it as he moves exactly when you’re about to speak up, thumb setting a calm pace against your clit.
you sigh, body melting against his own as he plays your body like a perfectly tuned harp. his mouth stays latches to the sensitive skin of your breasts and the feelings are too intense. the coil in your stomach is tightening at an ever increasing rate and the moans you let out are sinful.
just as you’re about to tip over the edge into euphoria, taeyong stops the movement of his fingers, head moving away from your skin and leaving you cold and bare. you’re too lost in your craving for him to say anything, but he can feel your frustration in the way you tighten you hands in his shirt. just as he removes his hand from your panties, he scoops some of your wetness up with his fingers and holds it between you before sucking his fingers into your mouth, eyes nearly rolling back at the unbelievable sweetness.
in all his years, taeyong had never found someone so perfect.
instead of upsetting you further, taeyong pulls down your panties and pushed himself down the bed, settling himself happily between the soft skin of your thighs. he grips them in his hands and pulls them to either side of his head, leaving forward to lick up your folds teasingly slowly.
your head falls back at the feeling and you’re already lost to the pleasure. he makes quick work of you, mouth sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue whilst his fingers slip up into you. he strokes at your sweet spot, hitting the spot so relentlessly you can do nothing but lie with your mouth dangling open and breathless pleas leaving you. waves of pleasure rain down on you and this time, taeyong doesn’t stop when he feels you approaching your high, instead opting to quicken the pace of his tongue and curl his fingers inside of you.
you think you scream when you let go, but you can’t really tell beyond the overwhelming feeling of taeyong. everything around you is amplified as he works you through your high, hips stuttering up against him and legs quivering, shutting around his head.f
he give you a moment to recover before he’s crawling back up your body, a sinful smile on his face.
no words are exchanged as he gifts you another kiss, this one so different to the first few. it’s dirty and lewd and you can taste your essence on his tongue. you stay like that for an immeasurable length of time, drowning in the taste of each other. eventually, taeyong pulls away first and you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh. in preparation, he lets his cock glide between you folds to gather your wetness before lining himself up with your entrance. right before he pushes in to you he captures you in another kiss to distract you from the stretch.
it’s painful, but addicting. you wallow in the pits of your lust and realise you’ll probably never feel like this again, never feel such a staggering amount of emotion at once. you feel everything and nothing at all, like you’re in a daze where the only concrete thing to ground you is this man who shimmers into existence at late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. and you love it.
for the first few thrusts, you can tell he’s holding back, trying to give you a second to adjust to the feeling. you wind your fingers into his hair and tug, meeting his eyes and silently telling him to keep going. it’s all he needs before you feel his hips pull back and slam down into you.
your sight blurs as your eyes roll back, legs wrapping around his back and allowing him to reach the most prized areas inside of you. just like everything else about him, it’s perfect, so flawless you feel tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. he carries on for a while with that same rhythm and it doesn’t take you long before you’re hurtling towards another orgasm.
taeyong slows down to let your pleasure simmer down before continuing, chasing his own high as well as pushing you towards your own. his hips fatler from their original cadence into a messy movement that has you meeting his thrusts halfway. you start to clench around him involuntarily and he drops his head to the crook of your neck, tugging your skin between his teeth and sucking harshly to balance his pleasure.
you fall apart at the same time, synchronised heart beats going a mile a minute. the air in the room is charged and you feel electrified, like you’re on fire but also at the bottom of a freezing lake. the feeling of taeyong spilling into you makes you shiver, the warmth shocking your system. he continues pushing into you for a few moments before pulling out, rubbing his hand up your slit to see the way you jolt in overstimulation.
your eyes are still screwed shut and you feel him roll off you onto the bed beside you, the air rushing to your lungs easer without the extra weight. there’s silence for a while before you finally open your eyes with a smile and look over to taeyong.
the sight before you shocks you, makes your blood turn ice cold. taeyong lies facing you with an innocent smile on his face, but where his glittering eyes once looked at you with such adoration, two black pits stare back at you. the room is suddenly freezing and you flinch when his hand comes to rest on your waist.
too scared to move, you only screw your eyes shut and hope the sight disappears. to your relief, when you open then again there is nothing but a dent in mattress left behind and the cold winter wind blowing through your open window.
a/n; i hope you liked this!!! i enjoyed writing it even if it is kinda more filthy than usual,, reposted because of tags
#taeyong#nct#taeyong smut#nct smut#nct imagines#nct x reader#nct au#nct timestamps#nct scenarios#taeyong imagines#taeyong x reader#taeyong au#taeyong timestamps#taeyong scenarios#nct 127#nct 2020#nct dream#wayv#lee taeyong#l.ty
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innocence - 03
PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader
WARNINGS: age gap
A/N: i’m gonna name this chapter symbolism i don’t even know how to much to thank you guys for all your support, i am so so happy you’re enjoying it. much love xx
NEXT CHAPTER
Hiding, being a ghost story.
Bucky knew too well about that. He knew perfectly how not to get any attention, even with a metal arm. He could disappear in the middle of crowds without much thought and even now he felt like he had too, he was still something other than human, half machine no matter how much Steve tried to tell him he wasn’t. He was no longer Sergeant Barnes, the longer time went by the more he forgot about him but he would always be the Winter Soldier. His name would always be associated with the attack on the UN, the blood from his victims would forever invisibly stain his hands, the Washington attack photos would forever be searchable and ready for someone to see.
Y/N didn’t know how to disappear. She knew how to become other people, how to be the person other people know. No matter how many wigs, how much makeup or how many times she changed eye colour, she could always see herself in the mirror, it was always her.
As she stepped outside her bedroom, Bucky took a long look at her. Y/N wasn’t ordinary, she was always polished, remarkable and as such Bucky had to make her look like any other girl in New York. Dark jeans and shirt with a musky dark green jack. Hair was done with a matching black cap sitting on top of it.
- Sunglasses. - he pointed out, noticing her dark shades laying next to her keys by the kitchen. - Cover the eyes and people normally can’t pick you out a crowd.
- We can leave through the garage. - she grabbed her keys and bag from the hanger.
- Do you have a subway card? - he asked her as he opened the door to her flat.
- We’re taking the subway? - she sounded excited as she followed behind him like a lost puppy. Bucky once again thought she was going to be eaten alive, in a city she didn’t know with people ready to put her face on billboards for the small price of her soul. He wondered if she would sell it willingly or if it would be stolen from her. Maybe it would be stolen while she was blinded by the flashlights, sucked off her small body. - I’ve never been in the NY subway.
- It’s not that exciting.
- It’s a subway system that takes you everywhere. How can that not be exciting? - her hand wrapped around his once more, not caring it was holding metal rather than flesh, as to pull him out the door before he could change his mind. His eyes looked down to where their hands connected as she kept walking ahead having Bucky removed any resistance from her steps.
Y/N merely looked in front, far away from the four walls which enclosed her in a house which as time faded started to no longer feel like home. Her heart was pounding, running like wind on a storm as the agency’s words rushed through her mind. She could get shot, she could get kidnapped, hurt. Yet, he seemed to make her feel somewhat safe. Maybe it was her subconscious telling her the Winter Soldier never lost of a battle or maybe her brain was smarter than her consciousness.
They took the stairs down from her floor to the garage, the lights turning on one by one as they made more progress through the worn out pavement which had tire marks and oil stains. This was more of what Bucky’s world looked like, stained, used, worn out, not needing replacing just staying there, fading away over the mocking lights.
- What are you looking at? - she stopped, feeling the resistance his feet were creating with the ground. Her eyes gazed from his hand to his eyes which were frozen onto the oil spill on the ground. - Oh, Mr. Andrews’ beloved car broke down and spilled oil all over the floor. He refuses to have it clean, says it reminds him of his lost car.
Bucky removed his gaze from the ground, giving her a reassuring nod, this time with him starting the walk yet she still stood ahead of her. Her feet finally touched the outside of her apartment, the sounds of cars and other vehicles along with the indistinct chattering of people walking around. While immersed and happy to be outside without a higher up member of her agency, her body seemed to reject this, taking a few steps back until her heel hit the point of Bucky’s shoes.
- You are gonna be alright, Y/N. - his hand moved over hers. - Trust me.
- What if they discover? I don’t want to ruin things.
- They won’t. Come on, you can’t experience the subway if you don’t walk to it.
New York, everybody knew about New York, everyone sang about it. Y/N like any non New Yorker knew the city from the representations she had seen in media. From the shining lights of Broadway, the Empire State Building where lovers meet, Central Park’s countless green patches, Times Square in New Year’s Eve to the stairs of the MET on television. Walking New York and watching New York were different things and she didn’t know what place to look with more wonder than the other.
Bucky had told her it took an hour on the subway to reach Coney Island but she still looked at the rushing horizon with the same curiosity of an animal leaving hibernation. He found it different to watch her watch his home, she had different eyes from tourists, eyes which longed to discover the very foundation of an overbuilt city. His eyes moved from her figure, hand still over hers, to look around the subway. There weren’t any people looking at them, most of them lost in books and their phones, too busy to look at her. Nevertheless, their heads, despite their gaze being glued to any type of media, still seemed to flow her way in some sort of magnetism he didn’t really understand.
As they came to their stop, her eyes seemed to still remain a diamond shine, looking around as he walked a path that was too familiar to him. Looking up he saw it, looking exactly the same as it did when he was a little, the Cyclone. Her eyes looked up too, bashing in wonder of what stood in front of her.
- It’s wondrous, isn’t it? - she held his hand as she rushed through the crowds. - I can’t believe this is just here.
- It’s been here for a while. - he commented, looking around for long but not long enough until she pulled him towards a salesman cart. His eyes left her sight for the first time in the day, looking around to the place he seemed to remember in shades of black and white or sepia, a distant memory. His memory seemed to wrap time around the place and almost like hallucinations he could see spectres of people that no longer walked the living.
- Thank you. - her voice broke him out as his eyes returned to watch her over her. She held two cones of cotton candy one blue and other purple, a smile on her lips. Y/N extended him one which he suspiciously took in his hand. - It’s just cotton candy, Bucky.
- I know. - he sighed, remembering how he and Steve would save any penny they found on the ground to buy sweet treats in Coney Island. - What do you wanna do?
- I don’t know. What do you suggest?
- I’m just here to accompany you. We’ll do whatever you want.
- Let’s win a big Teddy Bear. - she started rushing through the crowd again until one of the stalls with fake guns and duck like targets. Bucky let out a mindless smile as she grabbed the gun in the complete wrong position yet still held the confidence of someone who was a trained shooter. Not to his surprise, she failed miserably, a little pout settling on her lips. - Well ... can’t be good at anything.
- Let me try. - she handed him the prop gun which he propped onto his shoulder before locking gaze with the target, sending a shot straight through the wooden duck once, twice and thrice. The man at the stall rejoiced, clapping at him before pointing at the stuffed animals atop them. - Come on, pick one.
Y/N looked at the stuffed animals above her, all too big and probably would call for attention on the subway ride back home. Her attention was although locked on a small fuzzy black teddy bear nailed to the wood of the stall by its bow. She pointed up to the toy in turn making the man pick up a ladder and remove it for her. Bucky’s gaze once again left her as he noticed a small shack that seemed to have colourful memories in his psyche. Noticing this, Y/N placed her hand over his arm.
- What’s wrong? - she questioned, afraid there was any danger lurking.
- Just a memory. - he replied before turning to her but she was much too curious to let it go, gaze also locking on the little shack. - Used to be where they’d held the best leg competition.
- Sounds a bit sexist. - Y/N remarked.
- Never said it wasn’t. - he sighed. - We used to sneak through the back until we were caught.
- Should we sneak in too? - before Bucky could remark what a terrible idea that was, the actress was once again pushing him to the small shack, going around the back where no one was standing.
The soldier was about to scold her that this would definitely catch some unwanted attention when Y/N opened an old wooden door, going through it which meant he had to go after her. As they both stepped into a building which had been closed for more than 50 memories, his colourful memories started to turn black and white. The once fully lighted, velvet walls of the theatre like shack were worn out, paint chipping away and velvet hanging from it. The signs were broken, some even painted over by spray cans. There was a light layer of dust on the ground and the whole building held itself by the already showing wooden foundation rotting away with time. Time catches up to everything.
Bucky looked at the seats which were almost never filled as men would almost jump on stage to see the girls legs who would giggle at the attention. The stage still seemed to hold some glory with its burgundy curtains worn out by the signs of time yet still magnificent. Y/N jumped the barrier that separated the stage from the sitting area, the wooden boards creaking as she looked around. A theatre always felt like home. He merely looked from the sitting area, a sight that probably everyone who’d seen her play had watched before.
- It’s magnificent, isn’t it? - her fingers traced the heavy curtains before turning to Bucky who had sat on the front row.
- It’s old.
- Everything is. - she replied, her eyes roaming around the broken lights, trying to picture what this looked like during its hay days. - Reminds me of old musicals.
- Well then maybe you should sing. - he joked. - You did say you’d do whatever I wanted.
- I’m afraid I would break the wood more than it already is.
- Come on. - he teased and she looked up to the ceiling before looking to her feet and to the side.
- I follow the night can't stand the light. When will I begin to live again ... One day I'll fly away, leave all this to yesterday. What more could your love do for me? When will love be through with me? Why live life from dream to dream and dread the day when dreaming ends?
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[CN] Victor’s Colours of Rain Date (Eng Translation)
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
This date is dedicated to anyone who’s had a tough and tiring week in school or at work 🥰
The date begins with MC heading to the office at the ungodly hour of 6am, right after landing at the airport.
She’s tired but has to sit through a sudden and lengthy meeting with Yuelai Entertainment (“Yuelai”).
Yuelai is a reputable company which suddenly changed its mind regarding establishing a long-term partnership with MC’s company.
The representative from Yuelai bears bad news, saying that a partnership is unlikely due to budget constraints. MC asks for another chance to redo the proposal, but Yuelai gives her a vague response and leaves.
MC feels downcast because her staff members have been working very hard on the proposal, and all their efforts seem to have gone to waste. Anna tells her to rest, but MC wants to create a new proposal to change Yuelai’s mind.
She heads to Victor’s office later in the morning to present her weekly report. She starts dozing off.
A fountain pen taps my forehead. My eyes snap open in shock, and I am faced with an expressionless Victor.
Victor: Don’t get distracted during the meeting.
MC: Only the two of us are here…
I mutter under my breath, letting out a yawn.
Victor: Stayed up late again?
MC: I had a late flight, so I spent most of the night in the airport. And there was a sudden meeting at the office this morning…
I rub my tired eyes, feeling dejected as I recall the bad news from this morning.
Victor stops flipping through the material in his hands, raising his head to look at me.
Victor: Have you been feeling tired recently?
MC: Not really.
I deny instantly. Victor pauses, frowning slightly.
Victor: Just look at your eyebags. Even the pandas in the zoo recognize you as their relative.
MC: It’s just that everything is packed together so I’m busier than usual. I’ll be fine after getting through this period!
Victor: You’re really doing fine?
I nod without hesitation.
MC: Mm, I can handle it!
Goldman showed me Victor’s schedule for these two weeks, and the extent that it is filled to the brim is shocking. Compared to him, my workload is not worth mentioning.
Victor: Do you have any work this afternoon?
MC: Why do you ask?
Victor: I’ve read through your proposal and there aren’t any big issues. Go back and get a good rest. You’re not allowed to stay up late over the next few days.
I pause for a moment, look at the pile of work on Victor’s desk, and take out my laptop.
MC: I’ll stay here with you. Being able to stay with you is my best form of relaxation.
Victor: …up to you.
Victor lets out a sigh, a smile slipping onto his face.
Victor: How’s the deal with Yuelai Entertainment?
MC: This… I’m still not sure about their final decision.
I avert my eyes, even more determined to create a perfect proposal for Yuelai Entertainment.
MC is just about to ask Victor for advice when she receives a call. She has to return to the office to deal with a difficult guest on their talk show.
After that, MC finds one of her staff crying from stress
Thinking of how to comfort her, MC recalls the many trials she faced since Ch 1 of the main storyline, and how she plowed through them all
After that:
I finally have a short break and I rub my sore temples, the fatigue built up over the past few days overwhelming me.
The weather is fine and the leaves are swaying in the breeze. I stare at the clouds and find myself suddenly missing Victor. The time spent with him this morning was probably the only time I felt relaxed in days.
Someone from Yuelai calls MC. While MC’s company crafted a very unique proposal, Yuelai sees no future in having a long-term partnership with a small company like MC’s. Yuelai hangs up on her before she can even negotiate.
Depressed, she decides to walk home because the next bus would only arrive in an hour. To make things worse, it suddenly starts pouring.
The rain is so heavy that the bag she uses to cover her head slips out of her hands, her items falling all over the ground. Her neatly arranged documents get drenched too.
I want to escape from the spotlight. I don’t want to face tomorrow. I want to find an empty corner and just burst into tears.
The phone lying in the water vibrates, signaling an incoming call. I rub my swollen eyes and reach for my drenched phone.
MC: Hello?
Victor: Where are you?
My voice is lodged in my throat. It never crossed my mind that Victor would call me at this very moment. I take a deep breath and pretend to answer in a relaxed manner. I didn’t want him to hear that I was about to cry.
MC: Why are you calling me at this time? I’ll be home soon, what about you?
Victor: …I see you.
MC: What did you say?
Victor: Turn around.
I follow what he says and am met with blinding headlights.
The car stops. Someone steps out of the car, opens an umbrella, and walks towards me.
Under the amber streetlights, his silhouette becomes clearer in the rain.
I stare dazedly at Victor, thinking that I’m hallucinating. The tears I had been suppressing threaten to overflow.
Victor frowns and looks at me, letting out a sigh.
Victor: How long do you want to stay in the rain? Come here.
I rub my eyes. Not caring how embarrassing I look, I rush into his arms.
The feeling of acid that has been accumulating in my heart finally escape. I bury my head in his chest and burst into tears.
The umbrella is tossed aside. He places his outercoat over me, and the residual warmth disperses the cold.
Victor: You’re crying so badly. Seems like you’ve suffered a lot.
MC: I’ve already worked so hard… I’ve tried everything… I don’t know what to do… so that I can be even better…
I speak and pause through my tears. Victor pats my back gently, his actions slow and tender.
Victor: I know. You’ve already done very well. I can see that.
His voice is impossibly gentle in the gradually lightening rain.
After some time, the rain finally stops.
I look up at him with my reddened eyes. The Victor standing in front of me still doesn’t seem real.
Water droplets from the trees above pelt onto his shoulder. Even the front of his shirt has a large patch from absorbing my tears.
MC: This isn’t a dream right… you… why are you here?
Victor doesn’t answer. He gently wipes a tearstain off my face.
Victor: To fetch a dummy home.
In the car, MC realizes that she has lost her house keys in the rain so she’s unable to return home.
Victor: We’re heading to my home anyway.
MC: Y-your home?
I suddenly think about the sight of me sobbing my heart out earlier.
MC: Victor…
Victor: What is it?
MC: Can you forget about my whole bawling incident just now?
Victor: Don’t worry, I’ll get my outercoat sent to the dry cleaners tomorrow.
MC: …
Victor: What happened today?
Faced with this sudden question, I don’t know where to begin. Maybe it was the sudden meeting with Yuelai Entertainment this morning, maybe it was dealing with the difficult guest, maybe it was the heavy rain…
Maybe the culmination of all these things left me helpless and made it clear that I am not as strong as I thought.
MC: I realized that I’m not as capable as I thought… the more ambitious I am, the more helpless and small I feel when met with failure… I feel like a good-for-nothing…
Victor: You really are stupid.
MC: Why are we on the topic of my stupidity again.
I mutter softly, but turn to look at him curiously.
MC: You look like you’ve never lost control of your emotions before.
Victor: I have.
In the tranquil evening, his voice becomes quieter.
Victor: I’m no different from you. There are many things I cannot do or force to make happen. It’s okay to not be strong, it’s okay to not do well. You don’t have to bottle up your emotions.
I stare at his side profile, recalling what he had once said to me—
Victor is also an ordinary person.
[Note] She’s making reference to Victor’s Understanding the Human World date
Victor: I won’t tell you to keep holding on no matter what difficulties you face. That isn’t realistic. There will come a time when you will become an even better version of yourself who will have enough courage and experience to deal with all of this.
I suddenly have a realisation.
MC: You are an ordinary Victor, I am a mediocre MC. Everyone will definitely experience joys and sorrows in life. It’s just that people have different thresholds of endurance.
He laughs lightly, not denying my words.
Under the gentle streetlights, he pauses. It is as though an inordinate amount of time passes before his voice reaches my ears, but every word is crystal clear.
Victor: But before that, I hope you can learn to rely on me. At least with me, you always have the right to be vulnerable.
After they reach Victor’s house, he towels her hair dry and covers her with a quilt. Victor prepares to take a shower and asks MC to get him a change of clothes.
When MC enters the bathroom, Victor is in a state of undress – his shirt is half-open and his tie hangs loosely off his neck.
MC places the clean clothes down, but slips on her way out because - I kid you not - she keeps thinking about how she can see Victor’s abs through his shirt lol
Victor: Be careful!
Victor’s warning comes too late. I lose control of my body, falling against Victor. I hear a pain-filled groan from behind me.
Feeling something warm, I have a bad feeling as I lift up my head.
Under the bright lights, Victor pushes himself off the ground with his palm, leaning his back against the white tiles. His fringe is messy, beads of water on the tips of his hair.
His wet, half-translucent shirt sticks to his skin, revealing a sculpted abdomen that is usually covered and hidden.
The shower hose is at the side, and the sound of water continues to resound.
My line of sight trails from his leg upwards and finally settle on his handsome face. I feel slightly dazed.
Victor: Seen enough?
MC: No…
I bite my tongue before the words leave my mouth, trembling as I remove the hand that is still on his chest.
MC: One misfortune after another, haha…
Victor: Stand up. How long do you intend to sit on the floor?
Victor stands first before pulling me up. He then retrieves a towel to wipe off the water droplets on me.
Victor: There really isn’t a single moment when I don’t have to worry.
After this, MC chills on the sofa in the living room and looks around.
She sees her proposal on the table. Wondering what criticisms Victor has in store for her, she decides to flip through it:
Unexpectedly, every page is filled with more comments than usual.
“Not bad”
“There’s some improvement”
“Worthy of commendation”
Not only are there praises that I don’t normally see, but there are also extremely detailed examples and analysis.
A CEO who has a thousand things to do each day is so detailed and meticulous?
I can’t help but let out silly laughter, my fingers trembling lightly. I gently touch the handwriting that belongs to him.
In my most fatigued and embarrassing moment, Victor was the one who came to me with a hug.
He is the only island that I, a little boat which has drifted off course, can rely on.
Victor: Why haven’t you gone to sleep?
MC: …I can’t sleep. I was waiting for you.
Victor has stepped out of the bathroom and is now standing behind me.
He wipes his damp hair with a towel, water vapour faintly surrounding him. He looks at me, his line of sight following my actions to the proposal on the table. He looks surprised.
MC: I promise I’m not working. I was just looking around… and saw this.
I nod towards the red-coloured comments and cast him a smile that says: “I understand everything”.
Victor: I was just curious to see whether a silly technique of encouragement would be beneficial to you.
I’m not surprised that he isn’t speaking from the heart…
MC: It’s not silly at all, and it’s extremely effective! I recommend that you use it very often!
He ignores my teasing, walks around the sofa, and sits beside me.
I look at Victor, whose profile has been caged in a halo. Only the sounds of our breathing echo in the quiet air.
Victor: Your eyes are still swollen.
I subconsciously touch my eyelids.
MC: D-does it look ugly?
Victor: Mm, very ugly.
There is a smile in his voice.
MC: …then stop looking!
I lower my head dispiritedly, pulling the quilt over my head.
Victor: You dummy.
He looks even more deeply into my eyes. The breathing that falls on my ear is very gentle, very steady, and very long.
Victor: From now onwards, I’m the only one who can see your crying face.
💧
Phone Calls: First // Second
#mlqc#mlqc cn#mlqc spoilers#mlqc victor#this is my favourite Victor date#(not just because of those FINE abs)#I revisit this date quite often because it heals the s o u l
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Welcome to Faerieland (Fan Fic) - Chapter 9 - The house in the hollow hill
This is Chapter 9 of “Welcome to Faerieland”, a sequel to my Kitty Fan Fic "To never being parted" although it can be read as a standalone story.
AO3 Link to the full story here.
****
“Livvy? Livvy, is that you? I should have guessed I would be the first one to join you.”
The girl - the one he had met in the weapons room, the one from the drawing - shivered in his arms. Ash tightened his embrace, shielding her as best as he could from the chill and the wind as they soared through the night sky. He flapped his wings harder and winced. It felt as though a thousand needles were piercing through them, but he couldn’t slow his pace. He needed to get her to safety and tend to her wounds. She didn’t have much time, the demon poison was spreading through the long gash in her leg. Already, she was hallucinating.
“Livvy.” She sighed and smiled. Her eyes were half-open, but they were blank as stones. “I have so much to tell you.”
Ash could now see a familiar landscape stretching ahead of them, up to the white sea cliffs and the hollow hill in which the golden cage he called home stood. It was risky to bring her there. Save for the usual cleaning and kitchen staff sworn to secrecy, there had never been anyone but him, J, and very occasionally his mother in this house since they had moved in three years ago. But he needed the potion to draw out the poison in her system.
“I am… I am not Livvy,” he whispered back.
She blinked but her blue-green eyes remained unfocused, their pupils fully dilated. Her gaze set upon his wings.
“Are you an angel?”
Ash swallowed the lump in his throat.
“If I were, it would be the fallen kind,” he replied grimly.
Her eyelids were heavy now. She was mumbling something but it no longer made sense. Just as he thought she would pass out again, she jolted back to consciousness. She was suddenly staring into his eyes, a look of recognition flashing across her face.
“Clary?” She said, startling him, before she blacked out, her body once again limp in his arms.
****
When Dru came to, she registered dimly that she was no longer flying but half lying, half sitting on a mattress - much softer than what she was used to at the Academy or even at the Institutes - and propped up against plush cushions. There was a funny taste in her mouth and she idly remembered having been forced to swallow a liquid. She no longer felt cold, and she realized that a silk blanket had been pulled over her.
Was that what the afterlife was about? An everlasting sleep in a comfortable bed? What a letdown.
When she blinked her eyes open, she was greeted by a beautiful sight. Her faerie prince was staring at her with his grass-green eyes, a lock of his tousled fair hair falling across his outrageously handsome face. He brushed it away with an impatient gesture, tucking it behind one of his pointy ears, and she noticed that his refined velvety clothes had been replaced by a plain long-sleeved black shirt.
“You,” she breathed. She narrowed her eyes. “I knew it! I knew you were too hot to be real!”
“Er- What?” His lips parted. He looked utterly dumbfounded.
Dru’s hands shot up and she started pinching his sharp cheekbones.
“What- what are you doing?” He tried to articulate, but she made it somewhat difficult, as she was squeezing his face and kneading his cheeks.
She could not help it. She giggled.
“Look at you. You are so… perfect. This is ridiculous.”
One of his blond eyebrows raised.
“So that’s the part where we kiss and there are fireworks and romantic music playing in the background?” Dru pursued.
She grabbed him by the collar, drawing him closer and his breath hitched. When their lips were so close they were almost touching… he turned his head away in a swift motion. She was left staring at his jawline - again, she marvelled at its sharpness - and noticed a wide X-shaped scar on his neck that had been hidden by his collar when she had first dreamt of him.
“What is it? I am not your type?” She said jokingly. Maybe her fantasies involved a bit of resistance to make things more fun.
He slowly turned to face her again. There was no trace of humour in his expression. His gaze was intense and serious.
“Not my type? On the contrary. You are exactly my type. You defined it, actually.” The sharpness and bitterness of his tone startled her. She swallowed.
“Then... why won’t you kiss me?”
“Because I don’t kiss girls who are under the influence of alcohol, drugs or - in this instance - demon poison.”
He started standing, but she grabbed him by the arm and almost cried out at the sudden throb in her right leg. She blinked and noticed for the first time that she had a long gash across her limb. The bleeding had stopped but it still looked awful. Several Iratzes had been drawn on her skin, near the wound. She remembered the searing pain she had felt as the demon’s claw had ripped across her flesh… It all came back to her then. The battle. Ty. Kit. Jaime.
“We need to go back! My brother and friends are still out there on the battlefield!” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Raziel, how long have I been out?”
The faerie lifted his hands hesitantly to rest them awkwardly on her shoulders. He stroked lightly in a reassuring gesture, as his green eyes bore into her.
“The battle is over. King Kieran’s knights and the Wild Hunt swooped in, right after you were injured, and saved the day.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief as she fell back on the soft cushions. She felt dizzy.
“They are all alright.” A dark veil seemed to have covered her eyes. “I can’t-” I can’t see.
“Shhh. Stop talking. Spare your strength. Get some rest.”
It was suddenly all dark. An unbidden image came to her... black wings smeared with blood flapping furiously against the cold wind...
“You carried me… Your wings… you are hurt,” she said, before she fell back into unconsciousness.
****
Dru woke to a soft breeze tickling her skin. She immediately sat up, wincing at the pain in her right leg, and took in her surroundings.
She was in a vast high-ceilinged bedroom, illuminated by a soft light that spoke of dawn. The windows were equally huge, framed by velvet curtains.
Bookshelves were covering almost every inch of wall, and though they were entirely filled with books, there did not seem to be enough space for all of them.
More books were stacked in piles, others scattered haphazardly across the floor.
A latest generation laptop was resting on a large mahogany desk in the corner, as well as several tablets - what was the point of having so many? Dru wondered - video game consoles and controllers, a huge sound speaker in the shape of a silver skull and… more books.
The room harbored several collections of various items, weapons mainly, but also figures from comic books and fantasy novels. A real size shiny C-3PO seemed to serve as a valet stand, a black leather jacket comically wrapped around its shoulders.
The contrast was odd, as if an enthusiastic teenager had decided to set up his headquarters in the ballroom of a palace.
A pillow and a crumpled white blanket had been spread on the floor, next to the bed. They were tainted with smears of blood that could be traced on the thick carpet toward a half-open wooden door. Artificial light was pouring through the gap.
With strenuous efforts, Dru whirled her legs out of the bed. She blushed as she realized she was no longer wearing her dress - which had been torn and covered in ichor anyway - but in a plain black shirt. On her, it was long enough that it covered her thighs. She tried not to think too much about who must have dressed her and picked a long staff made of oak wood, probably a rokushakubō, that was resting against the wall. She used the weapon as a walking stick as she limped across the bedroom, looking out the windows as she passed them. All she could see in the dim light were large stretches of green grass. She was still in Faerie, she knew that much at least.
When she reached the half-open door, she peered around and... gasped.
It was a bathroom, much bigger than her own bedroom at the Academy, and to say it was luxurious would be an understatement. Everything was built in the most precious and refined material, even the taps looked like they were shaped from gold. The blond fey was seated at the edge of a huge circular bathtub with his back to her, only wearing boxer shorts. His pale skin was covered in Marks, some freshly inked, others faded, as well as battle scars. He was clutching large cotton pads and seemed to be struggling to clean the wounds on his black wings. Vials filled with different colours of liquid were scattered all over the marble floor as well as boxes of dried herbs. He whipped his head at the sound she made.
“I- I am sorry,” she said, feeling her cheeks flush at his nakedness.
“Sorry for what?” He replied, in his euphonious voice.
“I didn’t know you were…” She replied, waving her hand at him.
“Didn’t know I was what?” He looked puzzled.
“Naked!” She rolled her eyes.
He just stared at her for a few seconds before he let out a short back of laughter.
“I don’t mind,” he finally said and went back to tending his wounds.
Dru swallowed.
“Let me help you with that,” she said, as she slowly crossed the distance, and sat behind him. She picked a few bandages and started working on the cuts on his wings that were the least accessible to him.
They remained in companionable silence for a moment.
“You are a Shadowhunter,” she eventually said, breaking the stillness. “Why didn’t you tell me so when we met earlier?”
He shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”
“That’s not it. Your skin was covered in clothes. You are hiding it.”
He tensed. “So were you. I assume you had your reasons. I have mine.”
Okay… He had obviously decided to close the subject. And she didn’t want to pry. She redirected the conversation.
“About earlier… What I said…” She swallowed and blushed at the memory of her throwing herself at him. Ugh. How pathetic she had been.
“Did you speak earlier? I didn’t hear a thing,” he replied, casting a knowing glance at her over his shoulder, his lips suppressing a smile.
She exhaled.
“Thanks,” she said. “You know what, I do think you are beautiful. But so are Michelangelo’s sculptures. And you won’t catch me snogging them.”
He was still sitting with his back to her and she couldn’t see the expression on his face but he seemed to be smiling as he replied. “Message received.”
“So… is this where you live?”
“It is.”
“Alone?”
“No. It’s just me and my uncle J, though.”
She fell silent for a moment and he heard her unspoken question.
“I hardly see my mother. And my sorry excuse for a dad is dead. Good riddance.”
She flinched at that. She had noticed there was a darkness about him and wondered if it was linked to all the scars on his body or his evident hatred for his late father. Or both.
“I guess I never thanked you. For saving my life earlier.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I am Drusilla, by the way. Drusilla Blackthorn. People call me Dru, though.”
He nodded, as if it confirmed something he already knew.
“I am Ash.”
“Ash…?”
“Just Ash.”
“Don’t you have a last name?”
He shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” She playfully quoted Shakespeare.
He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Your turn.” He suddenly stood and turned to face her, folding his wings. Dru realized that it brought her gaze right at the level of his… She swiftly turned her face away, blushing. When she glanced back at him, shyly, he was sitting seiza-style on the floor, in front of her. He gently lifted her right leg to rest it on his lap, a small smile playing across his face. She could not catch the look in his eyes, under his silvery eyelashes, as they were focused on inspecting her injury, but she was pretty sure he knew exactly what was going on in her head. He slowly brushed his long and deft fingers across her skin while his other hand cupped her calf, and she couldn't stop her leg from shaking. Holy crap. He had barely touched her and she was already a flushing mess, her breath now coming in short gasps. She was very much aware that her toes were nudging at the waistband of his boxer shorts and that if she brought her foot a few inches lower…
They both startled at the sound of a loud banging on the bedroom door.
“AAaaash,” uttered a man in a slurred speech through the wooden material. “You self-righteous b-bastard. Open the f-fucking door.”
The voice sounded familiar but Dru couldn’t pinpoint exactly where she had heard it before. It didn’t help that it belonged to a man who was obviously inebriated.
Ash cursed. He brought Dru’s leg down and put a finger over his lips.
“You. Are. Not. Here.” He mouthed to her, his green eyes suddenly deadly serious, all of the earlier playfulness gone from one moment to the next, and she almost cringed. He stood and swiftly exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She grabbed the staff and lifted herself up from the edge of the bathtub to get closer and hear the conversation.
“Asssh,” the voice repeated. “I know you are ho-home. You left a m-mess in the infirmary. Anything you wish to tell m-me? You got into a f-fight again?”
Dru heard the bedroom door open with a creaking noise.
“What about you, J? Went out for liquor again?” Ash’s voice replied sharply.
“Ash. I d-don’t tell you where to put your d-dick. You d-don’t get to tell me what goes into my m-mouth.”
“The fact that you just said that with a straight face is evidence that you had one too many, J.”
“F-Fuck you, Ash.”
“Hmm… I’ll take a rain check on that. Not that I don’t find you attractive, but you know I don’t screw drunk guys. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
When she heard the door close behind them, Dru came out of the bathroom, in search of her phone, on the off chance it had survived the battle. There it was, resting on the nightstand, plugged in for battery charge. That was… thoughtful.
She grabbed it, swiped the screen open and tried to call Ty, but there was no service. Crap.
She rummaged through Ash’s drawers to pick a pair of shorts that she pulled on clumsily, and gathered a few weapons. She headed for the door, opened it and… ran straight into a pale white torso. Ash clutched her arms to steady her, then brought his lips against her ear. “Going somewhere?”
Dru jutted her chin out. “I need to find my brother. He will be worried sick.”
He didn’t move his mouth from her ear as he softly whispered. “You only need to ask.”
She stepped back to stare into his green eyes. His expression was unreadable.
“Okay,” she replied hesitantly. “Can we… go now?”
“Whatever you wish. Can I show you something first?”
She smiled at him. “Hmmm sure. I have to tell you though, I have four brothers, including one who has absolutely no issues with nudity. Trust me, I already know what it looks like.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head, and went to confiscate C-3PO’s black leather jacket. He put it on her shoulders. The sleeves were so long she had to roll them three times so her hands could peek out of them.
As Ash shrugged on his black shirt and black jeans, Dru cast a quick glance at his body. He had broad shoulders and was definitely muscular, as all Shadowhunters were, but not in a bulky way. His long and pale limbs emphasized his tall, overall narrow figure. He was like a spear, shooting up and deadly.
He caught her watching him, and gave her a lopsided smile. In turn, he allowed himself to look her up and down, but it was quick, efficient and not in the lazy, lingering, creepy way guys usually eyed her.
“You look good in my clothes,” he said finally. He came to stand in front of her, and gently grazed her cheek with his knuckles.
“Your skin is so translucent that it feels like a splash of red ink leaked from a pen underneath when you blush.”
She was pretty sure the red on her cheeks must have spread even farther, the colour brighter, and she did something she had never done in front of a man before. She looked down.
“Grab my neck,” he said, and she complied.
In a swift motion, he swept her off her feet and carried her in his arms like a damsel in distress.
He moved to the open window and… jumped out.
It was different now that she was fully conscious and aware of her surroundings. She let the wind blow through her hair, allowed herself to be overwhelmed by the surreal feeling of being suspended in the air without the fear of crashing to the ground.
She whooped in excitement, crying out “I am the queen of the wooooorld!” and he laughed.
They landed on a narrow patch of grass on top of a cliff. A nightmare for anyone who had vertigo, but Dru didn’t mind great heights.
They both sat at the edge, enjoying the landscape. It was absolutely breathtaking, an unobstructed view of Faeries lands, patches of dark forest, small lakes and plains of green grass extending farther than the eye could see.
Dru understood why Ash loved this spot. It looked like you could see everything while not being seen. It was a spot no one could access, unless well, they had wings…
“Look,” he said, pointing towards a chain of rocky mountains. The sun came out lazyly, spreading its first rays to scout the sky before making its glorious appearance and altering all the colours of the picturesque landscape from one moment to another.
Her breath hitched and she grabbed his hand reflexively.
He whipped his head around to look at her and she pulled it back immediately. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be,” he said gently. He cocked his head, a questioning look on his face. “Do you have a boyfriend, Drusilla Blackthorn?”
She smiled at his use of her full name. “I don’t.”
“A girlfriend, perhaps?”
“Nope. No boyfriend, no girlfriend.” She exhaled. “There is a guy, though…”
She looked up at him and he was staring back, his expression unreadable.
“I have had this crush on him since… Well, since forever. He seems to like me too, but he won’t act on it. I think he’s afraid of my brothers.”
He lifted his eyebrow. “He’s a bloody coward, then.”
She punched his arm. “Don’t say that! You don’t know him.”
He shrugged. “The question is… does he know you?”
She looked at him then, and was struck by the intensity of his gaze. There was a hidden message there, as if what he had really been asking was “Does he know you like I do?” But that could not be it, right? They had just met. It would be quite presumptuous of him.
“That’s not all. There is another reason, I think, and that’s why I haven’t made a move myself. I think… he is still figuring things out about himself...”
“Clearly,” Ash muttered.
“...And of course, there’s the issue of... my age.”
She waited for a change in his expression, a question, but he remained silent, his gaze steady.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how old I am?”
He shrugged. “Does it matter? Age doesn’t really mean anything in Faerie. I’d love to know your birthday, though. So I’ll know when to throw you the most decadent party you’ve ever been to.”
She let out a free, careless laugh. It was as if a weight had been lifted, that she didn’t even know had been there.
“What about you? Do you have a girlfriend or a boyfriend?”
He crossed his arms against his chest. “I don’t date. I screw around, though. A lot.”
“Why don’t you date?”
He shrugged. “I guess I have major trust issues. Oddly, it’s the only way I know how to get close to people I will never see again anyway. And of course…” He smiled crookedly. “I like sex. Don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.” She cleared her throat, rubbing her thighs nervously. “So... I am ready to go when you are.”
“Sure, your carriage awaits. Where to?”
“If possible… the New York Institute?”
He tensed. “Is this where you live?”
“Oh no, I was just there to attend a birthday party. I study at the Academy, so that’s where you can usually find me these days. My real home is the Los Angeles Institute, where my family lives.”
Ash didn’t say anything. He was watching her with a thoughtful expression. She looked down, at the frightening drop into emptiness.
“Is this the moment in the movie when the guy turns out to be a psychopath and leaves the wounded girl on top of a cliff and she is left to choose between jumping and starving to death?”
“You have a lot of imagination,” he said, his expression still musing. He grasped her chin to lift it slightly toward his face. “I rather thought it would be the moment in the movie where they kiss and there are fireworks and romantic music playing in the background.”
“Heeey! I thought you hadn’t heard anything !” She swatted at him and he grabbed her wrist in a motion so swift it was almost a blur.
“Heard what?” He said, and she didn’t reply, she couldn’t reply because the next moment he was kissing her, his incredibly soft lips hesitant at first, leaving her plenty of occasions to withdraw. She didn’t.
The kiss grew deeper and it was as if the ground was a rug that had been swept from under her, she was in a free fall, tethered to reality only by his gentle fingers holding her chin while his other hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He smelled like the best Faerie had to offer, all at once, rocks warmed by the sun and fresh grass, luscious petals twirling in the wind, a storm turning a gentle stream into a torrent.
They both jerked away at the sound of an ear-splitting noise.
Before them, a giant eagle was flapping its wings steadily, observing them through narrowed eyes. Josephine, Dru vaguely remembered. And it was not alone. Behind it, an even larger creature, that made the first look one like a fly in comparison, was hovering.
“Drusilla Blackthorn?” The smaller bird screeched.
“In the flesh.”
“I am Josephine. And this is my father Rocky. These are the names Tiberius Blackthorn blessed us with. Our real names cannot be spoken by your mere human tongues. Your brother is looking for you and we are to bring you to him. You can ride on my father’s back.”
“Wait, are these… rocs?” Ash said in awe, his green eyes glittering. “These are thousands of years old legendary birds of prey thought to be extinct. The most dangerous predators among birds. And your brother actually named one Rocky? How cool is that guy?”
“Where is Ty now?” Dru asked.
“He is with my mother, looking for you,” the bird answered. “But we are to meet him at the polyamorous cottage.”
Ash turned to look at her, amusement mixed with curiosity plain on his face. “The polyamorous cottage?” He mouthed.
She elbowed him playfully.
“Okay, let’s go,” she said with more confidence than she felt.
“Wait-” Ash shot an arm in front of her. “I am not sure how I feel about you riding on an unearthly predator.”
“What do you suggest?”
He pondered for a moment before giving her an answer, his expression clearly torn. He finally sighed, seeming to have come to a decision.
“Well… You can ride me,” he said, gesturing at himself and giving her a wicked grin. “And that’s not a one-time offer.”
She rolled her eyes but could not help to feel relief.
“Are you sure you are up for it ?”
“Are you kidding me? A private invitation to the polyamorous cottage? And of course, I can’t wait to meet your brother Tiberius. It will be fun.”
She threw her hands up. “Wow. Don’t get your hopes up. My brother is very difficult to befriend. I love him, but “fun” is definitely not the word I would use to describe him.”
Ash turned to look wistfully at the two giant creatures waiting in front of them. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Well, he sounds pretty fun to me.”
****
Tagging @gabtapia and @bookeater34 ;)
#cassandraclare#the wicked powers#cassandra clare fan fiction#the dark artifices#jaime rosales#drusilla blackthorn#dru blackthorn#ash morgenstern#kit herondale#kit herongraystairs#kitty tda#kit and ty#ty blackthorn#tiberius blackthorn#ty and kit#tsc fanfiction#tda fanfiction#the shadowhunters chronicles icons#the shadowhunter chronicles#dru and ash#ash and dru#dru x ash#ash x dru
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Gay shopping trip (gay metal fanfic mess)
Written with @theshityoucallmyheart
We're going gay to hell for this and please, don't murder us.
“Why did I even agree to this?” Tarja muttered under her breath while Sharon dragged her through the shops at the mall.
‘’Because you love me, that’s why’’ Sharon grinned and blew her girlfriend a kiss. Tarja sighed and silently begged Sharon to finally find what she wanted. Earlier that day, Sharon asked her girlfriend to go on a shopping date with her, and Tarja, who hated shopping even more than pop music, for some reason agreed. And now, after barely half an hour of being among humans, Tarja already was ready to go home and be gay by herself. Her girlfriend, on the other hand, was nowhere close to that. “Tari, have you seen any unicorn mugs? I can’t find them!”
The Finnish vampire groaned. “For the last time, Sharon, no, I haven’t seen any unicorn mugs. Why do you even need any more, we have ten at home. Saatana…” Sharon turned around. “There are never enough unicorn mugs. Also, I don’t have a rainbow one yet and I need that one because, y’know, gay?”
Tarja shot her a scandalized look. “Am I not gay enough for you or what? You should get a Tarja mug instead.”
“Did I hear ‘Tarja’ and ‘gay’ in the same sentence?”, someone behind them asked. “Where’s the fucking difference, you idiot?”, another male voice responded. Tarja turned around and saw her ex-boyfriend Emppu (yes, the one who made her realize she’s gay - and vice versa) and his boyfriend Jukka. “Wait, Emppu? Am I hallucinating or is it really you?”
Instead of answering, Emppu tackled her in a bear hug and almost knocked her off her feet.
‘’Apparently. I haven’t seen you in ages, bro. And you brought your favourite pansexual mess, I see’’ Tarja said once she recovered from the hug.
Jukka rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a mess, I’m just a pansexual insomniac!”
‘’Honey, you look like you just got dragged out of a trash can.” Sharon laughed.
“Don’t listen to her, you look acceptable. Did you find that bandana you were looking for?” Simone and Floor manifested behind the group and effectively scared the living lights out of Jukka, who jumped and screamed like he was stabbed.
Sharon grinned at her fellow Dutchwomen and hugged both of them. “Fancy seeing you two here, didn’t expect that.”
Meanwhile Tarja sat down on the floor and pouted. Emppu poked her in the ribs and asked “You okay down there?” She scoffed and replied: “Too many humans here. I’m not going to move until Sharon carries me out of here.”
Floor rested her elbow on Jukka’s shoulder. “So, mind showing me what kind of bandana you got?” That was the last thing they heard before her shriek pierced the air.
“BRIGHT PINK? ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S EYE CANCER!”
“Perkele, calm down. Emppu dared me to, and by the way look at your girlfriend’s shirt and tell me that’s a better colour.”
‘’Don’t insult Simone unless you want me to hide your weed and drink all your vodka.’’
‘’Try that, and I’ll come at you with my drumsticks.”
“Voi helvettin, get your shit together.” Tarja interrupted their banter, but was cut off by Sharon, who picked her up in bridal style. “Sorry guys, the midget is getting impatient. We’ll leave you to it, see you hopefully later!”
Emppu sighed. “Can you please stop with the height jokes?”
Floor ruffled his hair. “Sorry, no. Get yourself some plateau shoes and we’ll talk again.”
‘’I’m sorry, my beloved hobbit’’ Jukka said, trying to hide his laugh.
Simone, who had just sprinted back from the Hot Topic, crashed into Emppu full-force, and helped him back up. “Excuse me, didn’t see you down there. I found you something, Floor, look!”
“Awww, thanks!” Floor gave her fiancée a kiss on the cheek, but they were interrupted by Jukka, who squinted at the cowboy hat and, with a deadpan expression, said: “Bright pink? I thought that colour was eye cancer.”
Simone turned towards Emppu, who blanked and then bolted. “I’m never playing Truth or Dare with that bastard again…” she growled and then chased after him.
Jukka and Floor exchanged a look. Both were still holding their ‘eye cancer’ stuff. “So, are we going to return that shit? I’m getting a headache just by looking at it.”, the drummer asked.
‘’Nah, I’m keeping it. It’s kinda cute, and since Simone gave it to me…”
Jukka sighed. “You really are hopelessly gay. But we’re getting that little bastard back for this.” Floor grinned. “Sounds like a plan. And yes, I am hopelessly gay for her. Who wouldn’t be, after all...”
He snorted. “I guess Emppu has a different opinion of your lady, judging by how mad she is at him. And also, he’s hella gay so women aren’t exactly his vodka.”
Floor shook her head and sat down on a nearby bench. Somehow her iced coffee managed to survive the whole ordeal, so she took a few sips and waited for Simone and Emppu to return. In the distance, she saw Sharon still dragging Tarja through the mall. How these two managed to not hack each other’s heads off was a miracle to her, but then again, Jukka and Emppu’s crackhead dynamic was working out too even though Jukka was visibly losing brain cells with every passing day. After all, why bother with brain cells when you can have gay thoughts instead?
Simone sat down next to her fiancée and rested her head on her shoulder.
‘’Busy day, huh?’’ Floor asked her. ‘’Oh, yeah, but a fun one. Chasing Emppu to the ass of the world was totally worth it’’
With that, the redhead had fallen asleep on Floor’s shoulder. Great, now I have to carry a fiancée and an iced coffee back to the hotel. She sent a quick text to the two guys, downed the coffee, and carefully picked Simone up before leaving.
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Come Wake Me Up
@the-muse-mansion | Re-Archived: Written to this.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, three seasons have since passed from the last time the ground here crunched beneath the soles of his shoes. Stumbling in the dark, Lise saw the previous barren trees and shrubbery were now heavy with leaves, rustling dryly like quiet murmurs of disapproval at his approach. The night’s cold wind chilled him to the bone.
Dressed in only a white dress shirt, black trousers and loafers, the doctor’s usual tidy appearance was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a look of disarray, the shirt’s top buttons missing, leaving a vulnerably revealing V neck though its upturned collar was an obvious attempt of trying to curb that indecency. Its sleeves were rolled up to the man’s elbows however, making no effort to hide the hand like purple marks around his wrists. That brown hair too, was in a tousled mess, though it had traces of fingers having combed through it in failed effort.
Yet except for that and the lack of colour on his lips, the brunet who now stood at Adam’s door and knocked with the back of his knuckles, was not that much different from the he who stood here last. Breathing in, he let out a quiet sigh. “Open the door… it’s me.”
It was exquisite torture. Waiting each day for a word, a call, a letter, anything to show that he wasn’t hated and despised for some mysterious reason. Though he could not think of any reason for that to be the case, Adam could not think otherwise. Silence was all too telling after all.
So he lost himself to his music, compositions darker than any he’d written before, harsh and jarring manifestations of his own self loathing born of the conviction that he’d managed to screw this up somehow. It was all that kept him from ending it all in a desperate attempt to escape. That and the small undying hope that Lise would return one day.
Cursing to himself, Adam worked to re-hair his violin bow. It had not stood up well to the last bout of emotional outpouring. It was a task he was not fond of but one he was well practiced at. Even so his fingers stilled as a step sounded at his door. The words that followed would have sent him to his knees had he already not been seated. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.
If he’d been asked, Adam couldn’t recall leaving the couch and yanking the front door open. “It’s you,” he echoed almost feebly as he drank in the sight before him. Had he finally gone off the deep end and was now left to hallucinations? Would his mind manifest such vivid markings and bruises on the pale skin? Would he imagine the disheveled state as some sort of explanation as to Lise’s absence? He simply had no way of knowing. “Is it you?” he asked with hope coloring his voice like a child hoping the nightmare wasn’t real.
There wasn’t any sound beyond the door, nor would it be unexpected if the one he called upon chose to ignore him, but Lise knew it wouldn’t be long before he was answered. Because despite having ran away from this very porch months ago and abandoning his friend behind, he could still keenly feel that man’s gentility that would afford him at least a word: to stay or go away.
Just as the lingering beauty that was their friendship resurfaced from the watery depths of his memories, the door opened and Lise saw, his lily maid still alive and gazing upon him in the familiar form of a dark haired man. The hand he had kept raised to knock again slowly fell to his side, as he took in the sight, as haunting and beautiful as the name his mind had bequeathed Adam.
“… Yes… May I come in? It’s cold out here.” Tiredly, grey eyes - brighter than normal, as if touched by fever - raised and met the other’s searching gaze proper as he spoke with long shallow breaths in between. It was indeed cold out here, but what truly bothered him was the vulnerability of being exposed in the open. Where any predator could take him.
Seeing how Adam was looking at him and thinking he should explain his sudden return, Lise broke into a chuckle and dropped his head to his right shoulder, revealing dried, new scars on his pale neck. His own pallor was not the same as Adam’s, it was livelier, like the blush of pink sunlight over fresh snow. But it made the dull red craters all the more grotesque.
“I made a mistake last year… I left a true friend.” Voice cracking with a broken smile, Lise blinked away his watering eyes, unconscious of how his arms had wrapped around himself defensively.
By force of habit, his dark gaze flicked out to the night stretching out beyond the circle of his porch light. Lise, by all appearances, was alone though why Adam was concerned by that, he couldn’t say exactly. Perhaps it was nothing more than instinct.
Stepping aside, he invited the human into his home, door closing and locking behind him. Questions flooded to the fore, each jostling for position to be the first voiced. And with each detail the vampire’s eyes noted, the more difficult it became to remain calm. Whatever had happened in the past, and it was clear a great deal had occurred, Lise was safe here. Only Eve ever sought him out Others avoided this dying and decrepit city in favor for the more thriving metropolises or artistic meccas.
“Where have you been?” Fuck. He tried for neutrality in tone but damn him if there wasn’t the brush of hurt and accusation underlying his words. Biting back the rest of his questions, Adam busied himself with tugging a blanket off a chair and wrapping it around the slender frame of his friend and urging him to sit closer to the fire.
Where indeed. “…Lost.” Not that he hadn’t thought of giving a proper answer, like being at his work and the hospital, staying in strictly human places during the day and home at night, drinking with people he knew and just plainly avoiding vampires… until recently. But he couldn’t bring himself to, seeking the comfort of what was their friendship with such poetic conversations.
It was a shame he only realised now how he disappointed and failed to reciprocate the respect Adam gave him.
A blanket was then draped around his shoulders, drawing his scattered gaze back upon the dark man beside him before he followed Adam’s urging and brought himself to sit nearer to those flames. Chill had permeated deep into his bones and as if the strained vigilance he had kept on his journey back here finally broke from knowing he was finally safe, the cold suddenly became unbearable and his teeth clattered, shivers turning even his hands shaky.
Lise wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, turning his eyes back upon Adam. “I’m sorry.”
“Lost? A simple word for the time that’s passed. A simple word for the look I see in your eyes now. A simple word for the way you are curling upon yourself.” The idea of an apology, no matter how heartfelt, was put aside for the moment. Understanding must come first, if understanding was to be had.
“Be clear with me Lise. Something has happened and I would have the truth of it before this goes further.” If there were revenge to be had, by all the darkest demons that resided within him, Adam would have it. First he needed answers, he needed information.
Warmth from the blanket and fire seeped through his skin, calming the tremors. The fear that hounded his heels since he woke up and made his way here seemed to have been held at bay by the door. His gaze flickered from Adam to where it was, then back around them, and for the first time felt grateful that Adam kept his curtains closed all the time.
Shaky lips pursed and parted, far too dry as he thought about how to phrase his words. Feeling safe, he did not even think of lying, nor did he have the energy or intention to. “I’m sorry… I got scared. So… I’d left. Stayed home. Worked. Stayed with humans.” With every word he spoke, his arms got tighter around his legs, having brought his knees up somehow. He could not look at Adam anymore, too ashamed, keeping his gaze on the wooden floor.
”But… I missed you… and us… it’s been too long, and I didn’t know how-” Guilt strangled his throat and he choked, coughing before he could continue. “So I thought I’d try to know more first.” Read up on vampires, ask questions on the net and-
“There was a human-friendly bar.” Different from his words prior, these echoed out emptily and Lise’s eyes blanked out, having found their direction somewhat at the fire. When they came back into focus, they dropped to his bruised wrists. “Been there for a week… met someone. He was cool… said he had something in his car to show me. Then…” This.
Two nights. He had been lucky. Guy went out and the ropes were not that tight. Kicked a window and made his way here. But he did not want to think about those two nights.
Adam watched and listened in utter stillness. With each second it seemed as if Lise turned into some hardened but brittle thing that would shatter at the wrong word or gesture. And so Adam remained unmoving lest he misstep.
Ah, but then, the words started to sink in and the images they painted became clearer. And the knot in his stomach grew and tightened. He knew of such bars and the dangers they presented to the overly trusting or the unwary. He was humbled by the intent Lise had held but infuriated by the way he went about satisfying it. With a clenched jaw and a dark look that was quickly averted, Adam managed to maintain his calm exterior.
“What did he look like? What was his name?” The vampire’s voice was soothingly soft but no less intense. He now had intentions of his own. Someone beloved to him had be terrorized and he could not let it stand. “Where was the bar?”
Led by Adam’s gentle voice, Lise answered without thinking. “Andy… I think they called him Andrew.” He blinked and shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind. “Brown hair, tall… bigger than me or you…” He was shaking again, but this time it went unnoticed by the man himself, who was busy soaking in the warmth of the fire. “Looked like them P.E. teachers…” The nice, sunny kind of guy… funny how a vampire could be sunny… Lise gulped, remembering how it all turned terrifying instead.
He didn’t notice the change in Adam, still too caught up from his escape.
Bar?… Lise’s eyes finally moved to try and meet Adam’s, as his head took its time to shift from remembering that vampire to reverse and recall the bar he mentioned earlier instead. “Erm… it’s called the Hook-Up… you can find it on main street at Corktown… just knock to go to the basement… that’s why I-” His breath hitched again, before he stopped talking. Instead he stared at his long lost friend… well, the friend he abandoned for so long.
Adam moved closer as he stored the description away. The name wasn’t familiar but that meant little in the long run. Names were as changeable as the seasons for those who lived centuries. “Shhhh,” he said softly, attempting to soothe the tremors away the best he could. “You don’t have to worry about him,” he continued, assuming that the shaking was born of the fear that this Andrew would find him again.
“That’s why what?” he asked, genuinely curious as to the ending of that sentence. It didn’t really matter in the long run what Lise had been going to say but damned if Adam wasn’t just a little starved for his friend’s company and quick thoughts. In the back of his mind the vampire was busy trying to sort out everything necessary for Lise’s recovery but he found himself at a loss. So for now it was this; a comforting hand on a shoulder and a soft word. Revenge could wait for now though no forever.
“-Thought it was safe.” Staring at Adam, the words he had forgotten finally returned to his tongue and he breathed. After so long, his friend was still his friend and still cared. It was like the fact finally caught up with him. Lise breathed in deeply as he tried to keep his eyes from watering.
Corktown was filled with humans. It wasn’t that popular, but there were plenty of bars popping up in the area that made it attractive. Even at night there was quite a crowd with enough neon lights to brighten up the whole street. For just one of them to have a small vampire friendly bar downstairs seemed well- friendly enough. He just didn’t think he could be so easily kidnapped in ‘broad daylight’. “Adam, I’m sorry.” He apologised again, more lucid this time.
“How… have you been?” Without even noticing, his tremors had ceased and the blanket around him was finally warm enough.
Resolutely, Adam shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for. I, on the other hand, do. I made you feel unsafe, made you feel as if you had to flee.” With a clenched jaw, he bit off the rest of his words. This was neither the time nor the place for self recriminations. He focused on practical issues instead. “I have nothing to offer in the way of food or drink but I can order out easily enough. Are you hungry?”
He stood and went in search of his phone. Having only recently joined the current decade in regards to telephonic communication, Adam often misplaced the device as he rarely had use for it. He located it under a stack of papers after a minute of searching. “Allow me to correct myself,” he muttered as he fished out the charging cord. “I’ll be able to order in a minute or two. Damned thing is dead again.” He glanced at Lise as he spoke, pleased to see that he looked more at ease than he had.
Lise bit his lip. Guilt still clawed at him listening to Adam’s reply, but he already couldn’t quite remember why he was so scared of Adam in the first place. Sometimes a perfect memory isn’t all that perfect. What he felt made little sense.
“Mn… yes.” It had been two days since he last ate. Apparently Andy didn’t think much of feeding a soon-to-be-dead prey. Lise snuggled in the comfort of the blanket, soft from age and use. Watching Adam fish out the dead communicator, a nostalgic smile crept unknowingly unto his lips, amused and relieved that Adam’s still the same after all this time. Such was the image Adam would see when he glanced back at Lise, who was much more relaxed than when he came in before. Quiet crackles of firewood and Adam’s rustling about fixing the phone were all very comforting sounds, with familiarity rushing back after two nights of horror. With it, came the exhaustion that slowly weighed itself on the young man and he leaned against the coffee table nearby, trying not to sleep.
He gave a glance to the clock on the wall then moved to check the heavy drapes. It was nothing more than nervous fussing in an attempt to keep questions and anxiety at bay. What should he be doing now? What would be best for his friend? What were the chances that Lise would be followed here? On a level he was hoping that would be the case but not at this moment. Now was for his friend.
He moved with careful deliberation, not that he ever truly rushed anywhere anyway, stopping to kneel next to the huddled figure. “Your eyes are starting to close,” he observed quietly. “Let’s get off the floor and find a place for you to sleep?”
"We’re not ordering food?...” Lise mumbled groggily, squinting his eyes open to look at Adam. Struggling to keep himself awake, he nodded anyway to what Adam said, thinking he should listen to him to not trouble him further. Stumbling as he tried to get up, another wave of dizziness from the anemia rolled over him.
He would try to follow where Adam led him though, and as soon as they reached their destination, his remaining strength drained out of him and he crashed down, legs left hanging off to the floor. It would be at least some hours before the man will wake up again.
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I made something with @your-local-metal-lesbian , enjoy!
;readmore;
“Why did I even agree to this?” Tarja muttered under her breath while Sharon dragged her through the shops at the mall.
‘’Because you love me, that’s why’’ Sharon grinned and blew her girlfriend a kiss. Tarja sighed and silently begged Sharon to finally find what she wanted. Earlier that day, Sharon asked her girlfriend to go on a shopping date with her, and Tarja, who hated shopping even more than pop music, for some reason agreed. And now, after barely half an hour of being among humans, Tarja already was ready to go home and be gay by herself. Her girlfriend, on the other hand, was nowhere close to that. “Tari, have you seen any unicorn mugs? I can’t find them!”
The Finnish vampire groaned. “For the last time, Sharon, no, I haven’t seen any unicorn mugs. Why do you even need any more, we have ten at home. Saatana…” Sharon turned around. “There are never enough unicorn mugs. Also, I don’t have a rainbow one yet and I need that one because, y’know, gay?”
Tarja shot her a scandalized look. “Am I not gay enough for you or what? You should get a Tarja mug instead.”
“Did I hear ‘Tarja’ and ‘gay’ in the same sentence?”, someone behind them asked. “Where’s the fucking difference, you idiot?”, another male voice responded. Tarja turned around and saw her ex-boyfriend Emppu (yes, the one who made her realize she’s gay - and vice versa) and his boyfriend Jukka. “Wait, Emppu? Am I hallucinating or is it really you?”
Instead of answering, Emppu tackled her in a bear hug and almost knocked her off her feet.
‘’Apparently. I haven’t seen you in ages, bro. And you brought your favourite pansexual mess, I see’’ Tarja said once she recovered from the hug.
Jukka rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a mess, I’m just a pansexual insomniac!”
‘’Honey, you look like you just got dragged out of a trash can.” Sharon laughed.
“Don’t listen to her, you look acceptable. Did you find that bandana you were looking for?” Simone and Floor manifested behind the group and effectively scared the living lights out of Jukka, who jumped and screamed like he was stabbed.
Sharon grinned at her fellow Dutchwomen and hugged both of them. “Fancy seeing you two here, didn’t expect that.”
Meanwhile Tarja sat down on the floor and pouted. Emppu poked her in the ribs and asked “You okay down there?” She scoffed and replied: “Too many humans here. I’m not going to move until Sharon carries me out of here.”
Floor rested her elbow on Jukka’s shoulder. “So, mind showing me what kind of bandana you got?” That was the last thing they heard before her shriek pierced the air.
“BRIGHT PINK? ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S EYE CANCER!”
“Perkele, calm down. Emppu dared me to, and by the way look at your girlfriend’s shirt and tell me that’s a better colour.”
‘’Don’t insult Simone unless you want me to hide your weed and drink all your vodka.’’
‘’Try that, and I’ll come at you with my drumsticks.”
“Voi helvettin, get your shit together.” Tarja interrupted their banter, but was cut off by Sharon, who picked her up in bridal style. “Sorry guys, the midget is getting impatient. We’ll leave you to it, see you hopefully later!”
Emppu sighed. “Can you please stop with the height jokes?”
Floor ruffled his hair. “Sorry, no. Get yourself some plateau shoes and we’ll talk again.”
‘’I’m sorry, my beloved hobbit’’ Jukka said, trying to hide his laugh.
Simone, who had just sprinted back from the Hot Topic, crashed into Emppu full-force, and helped him back up. “Excuse me, didn’t see you down there. I found you something, Floor, look!”
“Awww, thanks!” Floor gave her fiancée a kiss on the cheek, but they were interrupted by Jukka, who squinted at the cowboy hat and, with a deadpan expression, said: “Bright pink? I thought that colour was eye cancer.”
Simone turned towards Emppu, who blanked and then bolted. “I’m never playing Truth or Dare with that bastard again…” she growled and then chased after him.
Jukka and Floor exchanged a look. Both were still holding their ‘eye cancer’ stuff. “So, are we going to return that shit? I’m getting a headache just by looking at it.”, the drummer asked.
‘’Nah, I’m keeping it. It’s kinda cute, and since Simone gave it to me…”
Jukka sighed. “You really are hopelessly gay. But we’re getting that little bastard back for this.” Floor grinned. “Sounds like a plan. And yes, I am hopelessly gay for her. Who wouldn’t be, after all...”
He snorted. “I guess Emppu has a different opinion of your lady, judging by how mad she is at him. And also, he’s hella gay so women aren’t exactly his vodka.”
Floor shook her head and sat down on a nearby bench. Somehow her iced coffee managed to survive the whole ordeal, so she took a few sips and waited for Simone and Emppu to return. In the distance, she saw Sharon still dragging Tarja through the mall. How these two managed to not hack each other’s heads off was a miracle to her, but then again, Jukka and Emppu’s crackhead dynamic was working out too even though Jukka was visibly losing brain cells with every passing day. After all, why bother with brain cells when you can have gay thoughts instead?
Simone sat down next to her fiancée and rested her head on her shoulder.
‘’Busy day, huh?’’ Floor asked her. ‘’Oh, yeah, but a fun one. Chasing Emppu to the ass of the world was totally worth it’’
With that, the redhead had fallen asleep on Floor’s shoulder. Great, now I have to carry a fiancée and an iced coffee back to the hotel. She sent a quick text to the two guys, downed the coffee, and carefully picked Simone up before leaving.
#nightwish#floor jansen#see you in hell#anyway adios#the road to hell is a bumpy one#gay chaos#writing
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Give Into the Symptoms (EoWells x Reader)
Rating: M (Smut)
Summary: When an unknown substance is accidentally released into the medbay, you find yourself isolated along with Doctor Wells, and both of you start to develop some very interesting symptoms...
A/N: Happy Friday! Here’s some super hot smut to spice up your day! Word count - 3,223
Tag List: @blogforhoes
Team Flash likes to joke that being accident-prone is your superpower. Little did they know, one accident in particular would catapult you into a world of suspicion and realization…
It’s one of those days - a day in between just having caught the latest meta terrorizing the city and having another one pop up. You have forgotten your travel mug, and are searching the Labs for it. Oh, right!
You remember setting it down while visiting Caitlin in the medbay, then got distracted. There it is. You jog into the room, but remember that’s probably not a good idea. What if you trip on absolutely nothing and fall flat on your face? Not if you can help it.
But that doesn’t seem to help you.
When you reach for your mug on the desk, it’s like everything happens in slow motion (later, you find yourself wondering if this is how it feels for Barry) - your arm knocks over a series of test tubes holding different coloured liquids. Some of the substance splashes onto your skin, whereas the rest of the matter falls to the ground. It gives off a pungent aroma. You can practically see the fumes rising from the desk and the floor up into the air. In the shock of the accident, you let out a yell, and find that whatever the hell chemicals just touched your skin feels like it’s burning.
“Miss (Y/L/N)!” comes the familiar voice of your superior (and friend? You’re fairly certain you’re friends… You hope you’re friends...) Doctor Harrison Wells. The scientist zooms in on his motorized chair at the fastest speed it will carry him. “What’s happened?”
His voice is a mixture of surprise, concern and impending protocol.
“Ow, ow, I knocked over chemicals on the desk, ah!” you try to explain while shaking your affected limb. “Some on my arm.”
You shout in wild staccatos while Doctor Wells helps usher you to the emergency wash station to ease the moderately uncomfortable sensation. Even after the cold water sprays on your skin, it’s Harrison’s next few words that shock you even more than the water temperature or the burn.
“You need to remove your shirt. Quickly.”
“I- what?”
Doctor Wells wheels over to one of the cabinets in the room and plucks one of the many overly stocked S.T.A.R. Labs sweaters to toss it at you.
“There will still be remnants of the concoction on your shirt. It will continue to soak through the fabric and reach the rest of your body. It cannot be touching you. Hurry. Unless you want to try to bathe in that sink.”
You have your shirt off faster than you could say “the Flash.”
You remove your shirt so fast, in fact, that Doctor Wells hasn’t even had time yet to turn away or avert his eyes. Instead, he witnesses the entire thing.
“Oh, well…” he utters, possibly embarrassed, turning around too late. His eyes one hundred percent saw you in your bra. And now you will let that tiny factoid harass you for the rest of your life. You shrug on the classic navy sweater with the organization’s logo stretched across your chest. It is not your size, but it will have to do.
“Alright, I’m decent,” you say to the back of his dark-haired head. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat after he faces you again, but you can’t decipher its meaning. But that is the case with many things when it comes to this man.
“We have to self-isolate ourselves.” Harrison’s voice is calm but firmly urgent. “We’ve both been in contact with each other and the substance. Quick, initiate lockdown.” You know just what to do and sprint to the door to the room. You smash the emergency glass and press the Big Red Button. Instantly, metal barriers drop down to seal the doors and windows, locking you in with the secret object of your affections and an unknown substance.
Only time will tell what will happen to the two of you next.
***
Nothing.
Nothing has happened! God, you are so bored.
“How long are we supposed to be stuck in here?” you ask.
“So far, it’s uncertain. This is an unknown substance. But we must stay isolated so as not to pass along the contagion. We both came in contact with the substance particles, so we may eventually show symptoms.” Harrison hums.
“What?” you ask.
“This unforeseen circumstance may be worth taking notes. For posterity. Do you have a pen?”
Naturally, Harrison would find a way to take this unfortunate situation and turn it into a learning experience.
Always a scientist.
Maybe that’s why you admire him so much. Well, more than just admire…
At first, time passes incredibly slowly. You don’t know what to say in the awkward silence between you and Doctor Wells, so you try to keep yourself busy. This proves extremely difficult, however. All there is in this room are Caitlin’s medical journals, test tubes and various other tools, and a medical bed. Yes, there is a computer, but it was set up solely for data entry. No internet. Not even so much as Solitaire!
And the metal barriers seem to have blocked out all signals to your phone.
Even Doctor Wells’ chess set was out in the other room!
This is hopeless.
You hop up on the medical bed and recline a bit. You’re starting to feel a little strange, but you can’t figure out what exactly is wrong with you. Is this one of the symptoms, or have you finally gone mad from being cooped up? You start to mentally examine yourself.
Your skin tingles, but in a good way - not like how it burned earlier. Your entire body feels comfortably warm, and you find that when your eyes fall on Doctor Wells, that’s when you start to feel hotter.
The man sits in the corner of the room, studying one of the journals. Every so often, he’ll lick his finger and turn the page...
You swallow hard, now wholly distracted by his lips. They’re so pink it should be a crime. But the real outrage is the curves of his arms. At first, you were going to ask whether he wears such muscle-defining sweaters like this all the time, but really you know the answer to that is yes. Your eyes take you on a vicious cycle of drinking him in, admiring every piece of perfection that is Harrison Wells.
“Miss (Y/L/N)? Are you feeling alright?” he shakes you from your ogling.
“Huh, what? I think so…”
“Are you developing any symptoms?”
Is horniness one of them?
“I’m not sure.”
“Write down what you’re feeling, anyway,” he suggests. “It could be helpful.”
You do so, taking the pen and paper you’d found earlier and jot down what you’d been feeling. You’re noticing a bit of lightheadedness too, so you add that to the list. But you hear something mid-scrawl.
“Did you know that you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on?”’
You lift your head. Did he just…?
“I’m sorry, w-what?” you stutter. Doctor Wells removes his glasses in one motion, letting one of its arms touch his lips, which bend up into a smirk. He wheels over to you in the bed, the closer he gets, the hotter and unsteadier you become. Your vision seems altered - rosier than usual.
“I believe you heard me correctly,” he answers, “and I mean it. You make me want to…”
“Want to what?” If you don’t settle yourself down now, you’re going to jump the man.
“It isn’t proper what I want to say.”
Oh, now he’s holding back?
Fuck it. You need to know. You slide your legs off the bed and, without much further thought, kneel between his widespread legs on his chair. Your hands gripping the armrests instead of literally anywhere on the man himself like you would prefer. Leaning in close, so much so that you share the same dangerous breath.
“I need you to tell me,” you beg.
Doctor Wells just blinks at you, then frowns.
Wait. Something’s not right here.
You pull back and examine the situation, and then the scariest words come from his mouth:
“Miss (Y/L/N)? What are you doing?”
You try your damndest not to scream. Did you just hallucinate all that? Oh God, I imagined him coming on to me, didn’t I??
Jumping back far away from him, you turn around to hold your head in your hands. Is this all one big fever dream? Is this a symptom? What’s real? What’s not? You sure as hell don’t know anymore. All you do know is that you’re hot and bothered and almost mauled your boss because of it.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” you say. “I’m just…” You’re completely frazzled. “I’m just going to write it down.”
New symptom: horny hallucinations
You try to let the next half an hour pass without feeling this strange woozy sensation. In doing so, you close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing while lying down. But it’s still too hot. You’re still too hot. You remove the sweater, entirely forgetting that you aren’t alone in this room. Doctor Wells has been quiet for far too long. And it would appear he’s been watching you. His elbow rests on his chair, hand covering his mouth as his eyes rake over your body. You look down to his lap, an accident.
Good Lord, he’s got…
The curve of him is all too apparent in his pants. The way he’s sitting only draws attention to it. It’s like you have instantaneous tunnel vision. His growing self is all you see and all you care about. You go to him, no longer wondering or caring if this is all an illusion, it’s not even a thought in your brain. All that remains is this unrestrainable animal lust for his body. Consequences be damned. You kneel in front of him.
“(Y/N)...” he exhales. He doesn’t sound stunned or taken aback by your extreme forwardness. Instead, it sounds like a warning.
“Suddenly not so formal, hm?” you say. “Good, because we’re about to get better acquainted anyway, Harrison.” Doctor Wells doesn’t make any motion for you to stop your advancements, just stares lustful daggers at you while you practically claw at the man’s buckle and zipper. You reach into his pants to wrap your hand around the single thing in this room that you believe can heal you. His sheer hardness is unveiled and in your firm grasp. Doctor Wells’ groan shifts into a growl. Well, hello. His brow furrows but in the sexiest goddamn way.
Heavens above, you’re desperate to taste this man, eat him, swallow him, consume him.
New symptom: salivation
Your tongue darts out for a slow lick. But the slowness doesn’t last because the need is greater than anything you’ve felt. Soon, you surround your lips around his cock and take him further in your mouth. Further, letting the underside of him brush against your flattened tongue. On your way back down, you swirl around him, which makes your colleague, your employer reach a hand into your hair. He grips a handful at the base of your head. Harder. Pull it harder.
Doctor Wells does just that, and perhaps you did say out loud that after all? You aren’t sure of anything anymore other than you feel on fire, and you need more. Your blood hurtles through your veins. A ceaseless throb makes itself known between your legs. More so than before, that is.
Going in for the kill, you return your mouth to him, meanwhile reaching your own hand past the waistband of your jeans to touch yourself. You need to get off just as much as you want him to. You feel like you’ll keel over if you don’t deal with yourself too.
Harrison’s bobbing head stops to stare down at you.
“Are you-? Fuck, (Y/N), are you-?”
You hum around him in affirmation, and just after you do, the scientist pushes you off of him. In any other situation, you might be mortified that a man told you to stop blowing him, but this is no ordinary situation. Your vision blurs for a second in a surge of lust. You’re like an animal that’s just been denied their meal. There’s so much more to eat.
You stand up, chest heaving, and positively do not believe what you witness next.
Doctor Wells’ hands clutch the chair’s armrests again, but then you watch as he moves his foot. He takes a step onto the floor, then stands to a full six feet. It’s a fucking miracle- no. It truly is a hallucination. A dream. It’s a fantasy.
There’s a flash of danger in his eyes, while yours widen, big and round as his prey. The tables have turned. He’s stalking you, walking you back until you hit the metal barrier where the door once was. Captured.
This hallucination is fucking wild and I am here for it.
Might as well give in to the symptoms, right?
Harrison leans down by your ear and inhales your scent. Sweat, desire, desperation.
“I can’t resist you,” he says as if it’s difficult to even speak through the palpable sexual tension.
“I’d always imagined you saying that,” you confess, because why not? This isn’t real anyway. “I can’t resist you either.”
“I’m aware,” he chuckles into your neck, where his mouth quickly attaches. You swallow twice. “You seemed rather hungry back there.” Your pulse is starting to skyrocket again.
“Still am.” Your fingers find the hem of his soft black sweater and begin to lift it up over him. Might as well indulge in this glorious sex dream. Harrison helps you of course. He seems to want this as much as you. You’re both a series of grabbing hands, flexing muscles, and greedy touches as each and every article of clothing finds its rightful place on the floor.
Fucking hell, sex-fantasy Doctor Wells looks like an actual god. Part of your brain wonders how much of his usually-covered appearance is accurate. The rest of your brain (and another part in particular) thinks, Get in me.
The look on his face says it all. He’s going to ravage you.
Harrison, faster than you could ever imagine, spins you so that your exposed breasts press against the metal barrier. Your palms rest flat against the cool metal as well, bracing yourself for whatever the man has planned. Whatever it is, you want it. Now.
His hands run down your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake despite your entire body feeling hot as all hell. He steps closer, so close that his whole body presses against the back of yours. His still hard cock digs into you from behind. You reach around and take hold of it and start to pump. The scientist rumbles into your neck, where he licks and nips and sucks and fuck- bites. You squeal. By the way his body twitches, you think he rather enjoyed hearing you like that.
If you weren’t already a mess, Harrison’s fingers take over the job you tried to accomplish on yourself earlier. His fingers are greeted by your already sopping desire.
“You really were serious, weren’t you?” he says at the slippery feel of you. “Do I always arouse you like this?”
“God, you don’t even know.” It comes out a bit strangled. “All the time.”
“Are you ready for me?”
“Do you seriously need to ask?”
He doesn’t answer you, but instead takes his length to press it against you from behind. Finallyfinallyfinally. A little more. Just a bit more. More. Further in. With each inch, you whine for all of him. Doctor Wells growls into your shoulder once he’s reached as far as he’s able to sheath himself inside you.
It’s only when he starts a steady pace of thrusts that you almost believe this is all real. The feeling in your gut tells you it’s real, but the rest of you insists it’s a very very heated symptom. His mouth is still attacking your neck, any bit of skin he can get to. The current mark he’s leaving is starting to hurt but in the best way.
“Fuck,” you swear, knowing your climax is just on the horizon. You’re nearly there. “Faster. Faster,” you ask of him with what little ability you have to form words. Doctor Wells chuckles, almost evilly, into your ear.
“That I can do,” he replies. His hips snap repeatedly, a deliciously rapid speed. Skin against skin slaps to quick beat. His fingers circle at the same pace. And with a surprise, sharp smack to your ass, this wicked combination is your undoing.
You come apart like a crumbling mess, crying out as you do as the man repeatedly slams into you, now seemingly for his own gain. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, an orgasm this powerful, is it even possible to have one this...
***
You blink your eyes open.
You’re still in the medbay, but the barriers on the door and windows have been lifted. And you’re definitely still clothed in your S.T.A.R. Labs sweater and jeans. So it was all a crazy dream?
Regardless, you’re never going to be able to look Doctor Wells in the eye ever again.
Speaking of the man…
He rolls in on his chair with a pleasant and calm smile.
“Feeling alright, Miss (Y/L/N)?” he asks, concerned. “You took quite a spill earlier.”
“I did?”
“Yes.”
You don’t remember falling. You remember a whole lot of an X-rated fantasy, though.
“I didn’t, um…” you aren’t sure how to phrase this. “I didn’t do anything embarrassing or potentially fireable, did I?”
Doctor Wells raises an eyebrow in one of his classic moves. “I don’t believe so. Other than the falling, of course. But you needn’t feel embarrassed about that. It could have happened to anyone.”
You nod slowly, relieved that you didn’t blow your boss under the influence and proceed to fuck against a wall. Although… no. No. You are relieved. Yes.
“I see the barriers are up,” you note. “I take it that isolation is no longer required?”
“You would be correct,” Harrison confirms. “Doctor Snow rushed in, with the appropriate hazmat gear and did some tests. You were out long enough for the results to come back. We’re in the clear.”
“Well, that’s good news.”
“Quite.” Harrison smiles at you, but there’s something different this time than previously. You aren’t sure what it is. “I will leave you now. Feel free to take a few days off. I know that was probably a lot to take in.”
“Right. Yes, right, thank you, I will.”
“Take care, (Y/N).” Harrison wheels away out of the room and out to the corridor. You take a breath and step out of the bed, feeling a bit uncomfortable as you walk. And then, in the reflection of one of the mirrors on Caitlin's work desk, you see it.
A deep-purple mark on your neck.
When you press your fingers to it, it hurts a bit. It’s fresh. But how can that be…?
Can that-?
Did he really-?
But then that means…
Oh shit.
~
Anonymous Request: Hey dear🤗 I want to request a EoWells story. Reader gets exposed to a VERY powerful aphrodisiac at star labs and the reader asks harrison to help her😏. And he gets exposed to it too. And both go totally crazy and do shameless dirty stuff to each other and together (maybe they always had feelings for each other). And Harrison reveals his secret( that's he's not paralyzed) to get more and more from her. Lots of smut!🙈 Plus add whatever you like. can you plz?🙏🏻
#reader insert#anon request#harrison wells x reader#harrison wells imagine#harrison wells fanfiction#eowells x reader#eowells imagine#eobard thawne x reader#eobard thawne imagine#the flash imagine#the flash smut#the flash fanfiction#harrison wells smut
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This a weird prompt but would you write jonmichael? Asking solely because I want to read Elias and the archives staff dealing with that
good-ish AU where sasha’s still sasha and everyone’s cool with stuff, i guess? :DDD
- - -
The door-that-wasn’t-there-a-minute-ago slams open against the wall, shaking the shelves and knocking one cheap vase to the floor in a small explosion of sad porcelain shards and accumulated dust. Martin lets out a high-pitched, “Jesus Christ!” in surprise as much as raw shock when Jon Sims himself staggers out the door like a teenager doing the walk of shame. Granted, he’s bleeding from his hairline and one sleeve of his sweater appears to just be missing, but he looks more sheepish than injured.
Just as he makes the last step over the threshold-that-shouldn’t-be, Martin sees a vague person-ish shape wobble in the mysterious beyond. And it is, in fact, wobbling, like a bobblehead or one of those playground toys shaped like horses that waver on oversized springs until they fling some unfortunate child headfirst into sand. Extended metaphor it may be, but the wobbly thing gives a high, wavering giggle before cooing, “Don’t forget this, love!” in a voice tiered in multiple pitches like an eldritch wedding cake. Jon turns just in time for an arm-that-shouldn’t-be-that-long-oh-my-god-what-the-fuck to come shooting out of the door, an iPhone clutched pinched between its enormous fingers. Martin might be hallucinating, but he thinks the razor-sharp fingernails are lacquered in sparkly purple nail varnish.
He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it before Jon gingerly takes the phone with a mumbled, “Thanks,” and the hand recedes back into the hellish landscape beyond the door.
“Of course!” garbles the wobbly thing. Then, with a range of voices topped off with an impressive soprano flourish as light as meringue, it yodels, “Call me!”
As abruptly and shockingly as the door appeared, it disappears with a sharp crack, causing the shelves to slam back into place with a small cataract of old books falling into the pile of broken ceramic.
Jon and Martin stand in the stuffy office, each caught in the awkward position of how the hell do you talk about that?
Finally, Jon gives Martin the most soul-deep, weary look before quietly beseeching, “Please don’t tell anyone.”
All Martin can do is nod before Jon shuffles out to the hallway
- - -
Sasha sees him at the flower stall again.
Through the warped windowpane, she watches him scoop up a great, garish bouquet representing nearly every spectrum in the visible rainbow, and some colours that might not exist save for the eyes of the mantis shrimp. When she gets to ground level and sees him semi-properly, he’s just a blond man in a beanie, carefully regarding a sorry bunch of daffodils held together by what looks like clingfilm cinched shut with twine. Rather than being all spooky and mysterious, Sasha thinks he’s actually deliberating. There’s a pinch in his brow as he lowers the daffodils in favor of prodding the drooping lower lid of a sorry little orchid suffering in London’s less-than-tropical climes.
Sasha kind of feels… sorry for him?
Granted, he’s a monster with terrifying monster hands and monster tendencies and apparently a taste for caffeine, but he really looks caught on what to get. That in mind, she does remember that he bought lilies the last time he was around. Maybe that was less of a coincidence and this Michael creature really does like flowers; or he may have some fellow monster friend that he deems worthy of buying flowers for. Honestly, Sasha doesn’t want to think of what kind of friends Michael keeps.
Against her better judgement and sense of self-preservation, Sasha walks across the street to where Michael forlornly weighs his options. He looks up at her approach, and the first impression she gets is that his eyes are more like spinning tops prone to rotate anti-clockwise. She blinks and sees stationary blue eyes regarding her with confusion, and then… relief?
Huh.
“Sah-shah Jaaayymeeesss!” he almost sings, lifting up the dying daffodils like a salute. “What a pleasure to see your radiant face again!”
“Michael,” she replies, a little colder than she intends. Last time they met, there were far more meaty hands and worms involved, and she’d rather get to work unscathed.
If he thinks the reply is chilly, he makes no sign of it. Instead, he flops the tortured flowers around in his terrible hands. “Actually, I was hoping to see one of you lovely little Institute-dwellers around. I think I gave Martin a bit of a fright laaaaast time!”
Sasha frowns, but can definitely picture Martin having to be peeled off the ceiling after a Michael encounter. “Oh,” is all she says.
Michael goes on, gleefully undaunted. “You see, you and I have a mutual acquaintance! And I think he’s in need of a little—” He gives the daffodils a vigorous shake. “—cheering up these days! But I just don’t know what he’d like! Silly me for not being obseeeeervant!”
“I… A mutual acquaintance?”
“Yeeeessss! Your lovely boss!”
“Elias?”
Michael laughs. Well, more like he laughs in a way that sounds like he laughed ten minutes ago and ten minutes into the future, and then layered the sounds over one another like phyllo dough in a hellish baklava. It’s impossible, but Sasha hears it all the same. “Noooo!” he giggles. “Not in a million endless cycles of time or those dimensions yet unperceiveeeeeed!”
Sasha won’t even start on that statement, except that it isn’t Elias, which means it has to be—
Oh. Jesus.
Grubby, curmudgeonly, insomniac Jesus.
“Jon?” she gasps.
Michael laughs again, louder and higher so that a glass breaks somewhere in the distance. “Yeeeesssss! Poor Jonathan, always working so hard in that dismal cave you call an archive. I offered him office space that would appeal more to a sense of aestheticism, but he… Oh, what did he say? He thought it was a little heavy on the—” And here he speaks in an exact mimic of Jon’s dry voice when he says: “Impossible, improbable, and honest to God, Michael, my brain would shatter into a thousand pieces if I looked at that painting for another minute.” Michael dissolves into a fit of giggles before saying, “It’s just a lost Hieronymus Bosch painting, honestly.”
So Michael McMeatyhands is buying flowers for Jonathan Sims. Sasha’s having a hell of a time wrapping her head around that particular fact.
The infernal giggling stops and Michael seems to circle (spiral?) back to his previous predicament. Dying daffodils or suffering orchids?
For a lack of anything more to say, Sasha wordlessly points to a bouquet of slightly more enthusiastic-looking daisies, bobbing peacefully in a tin pail of water. “Those,” is all she can manage to say.
Michael looks thrilled. He actually hums some impossible tune (in full SATB with orchestral arrangement, all localised in his throat) as he puts the daffodils back, scoops up the daisies, and drops four quid into the stall owner’s hands with a wet, meaty thwap that the owner doesn’t seem to hear. Then, Michael swivels back toward Sasha and grins with the corners of his lips somehow curling up near his eyes like a particularly twisty Cheshire Cat.
“Thank you, Miss James!” he says. “You’re a lifesaver!”
“You’re… welcome? I think?”
But Michael’s already walking away, taking steps in a gait that doesn’t seem to match the rhythm of the rest of his body, like two halves of entirely different people drunkenly attempting synchronicity. Sasha half-expects his legs to walk away from his torso.
Toward Jon.
She sighs and rubs a hand over her face before heading in the direction of the Underground station.
- - -
The boss is dating someone. This, Tim is absolutely sure of. He’s watched Jon like a hawk for a week now, carefully comparing his moods in the morning with how early he left work the night before. Long work nights equal really bad mood. Long not work nights equal better mood with less shouting and calling people morons under his breath. This is good.
This is very good.
Tim is pleased with his enviable knowledge. Whoever somehow won the heart of the boss must be a pretty special person, or at least someone with an endless well of patience. Or maybe they’re Jon’s opposite? Either way, Tim’s got a hankering to send them a box of chocolate as a thank you for chilling the boss out and making him more tolerable to work with.
He tries to picture who this mystery person is, as Jon’s definitely not the type of person to take his personal life to work with him, inasmuch as he likes to take work home. Tim pictures someone easygoing, like a Margaritaville type. They balance Jon’s stick-up-assery out, maybe giving him massages over the back of the couch while Jon watches dry documentaries about the actual speed of drying paint. In his mind’s eye, Tim gives this person a hideously neon Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, but a winning smile that melts Jon’s ice-locked heart and makes it so he can’t help but smile back.
Tim likes them, whoever they are.
And when he gives Jon a little wink after dropping off a follow-up report, says, “Had a good night?” in a way more than a tiny bit suggestive, he only relishes a teensy bit in how dark Jon’s cheek become and how he ducks his head down. He mumbles something before actually thanking Tim for the report.
Yeah, this is awesome. Tim owes Jon’s mystery partner a thank you card and maybe a cake.
- - -
“Eliaaaaas.”
“Michael.”
Staring. Lots of staring. Cold, unflinching irises to a set of psychedelic, rotating disco balls set in a grinning face. Behind Michael, blue and purple streaks like the top of a wildberry Pop-Tart flash about and dance madly as Michael gives him the strangest of staredowns. Occasionally, his head appears to flip upside-down a few times on his swirly straw of a neck, and half of his teeth try to glitch through his lips in a way that Elias thinks of as an attempt at a sneer.
Finally, Elias sighs and calmly folds his hands on the top of his desk, ignoring the waves of tangible static pouring out onto the floor and possibly leaving a stain on the carpet. That’s going to be difficult to explain to the janitorial staff. “We may have to set some ground rules,” he says.
“I’ll bring him home by eleven,” Michael cackles in reply.
Elias narrows his eyes just as he feels Beholding roll its great omnipresent gaze in irritation.
“I mean to say that you’re not to interfere in Institute business any further than you are right now,” Elias retorts. “I should completely ban all Spiral-related statements on grounds of personal involvement.”
Michael grins. His smile rises up to his forehead like a crescent moon before rolling down the side of his face and hooking back up into the empty space where a normal mouth should be. “I can make this weirder. I can spiral any statement in this place. Every little word can bend in and around on itself like a pipe cleaner.”
Elias glares. “You won’t.”
“You can’t stop me!” Michael sings. “But I’ll keep courting your Archivist nice and proper as long as I’d like, or he’d like.”
“If this is an attempt to draw him into the Spiral’s influence—”
When Michael laughs this time, it seems to be drawn from every laugh that was ever laughed in the history of the muscular and diaphragmatic spasms that caused them. It’s so charged, so loud and explosive that Elias nearly winces at it. And when it’s over, there’s a vacuum of sound in its wake, so it takes a full minute for Elias to hear anything properly again.
Then, Michael taps his horrible fingers on Elias’ desk, eliciting a sharp tak-tak-tak-tak-tak that repeats in on itself fifty times over. “Not everything is about influence,” Michael hisses through too many teeth. “Not every attempt on a person is to draw them in and mark them, unlike what you do. Maybe sometimes, one of us can authentically like one of them. Is that too hard for you to understand, Man-of-the-Eye?”
Beholding tries to truly See Michael, but something about the Spiral’s nature twists the image.
“No,” Michael goes on, followed by another round of tak-tak-tak-tak-tak. “I rather like the Archivist. And he likes me. Aaaand if you try to get in the way of us, I will peeeeerrrrsonallyyyyy claw your precious little eyes out of your sockets. Understand?”
Elias doesn’t have time to make a reply. Michael is gone in a gunpowder-bright flash of light and a shock of sound. If there was a door, it’s gone. So he sits alone in his office, staring at the space where the Spiral was, and he feels something terribly empty and terribly familiar.
- - -
Jon picks their next date and opts for something as normal as the last one was strange. He chooses a walk at St James Park, eating ice cream and admiring the pelicans while Michael regales him with some bizarre story that sounds more like a backwards recitation of the Jabberwocky poem. He pauses in between stanzas to eat more of his pistachio ice cream with a delighted gusto before he presses on in gibberish.
Something about it makes Jon feel oddly warm and content, even as the early spring wind chills him.
Their last date was to Annwn, which Jon had originally suspected was in Wales. He was half-right; it was Wales as much as it was also the traditional world of the afterlife in ancient Welsh rites. It was rather lovely and Jon thinks very highly of their honey cakes, although he suspects he probably wasn’t supposed to eat them.
But Michael looks just as pleased to be in this park as he was to be in ancient Welsh paradise. His Jabberwockish story comes to an end and he finishes the rest of his cone before throwing the little paper ring into a nearby litter bin. Then, he stretches his arms out to the side and sighs in contentment. “Just bonny, as they say!” he cheers before reaching down and taking Jon’s free hand in his. It’s got a mind-boggling weight and an odd texture, while appearing to be a normal hand. At first, it gave Jon such an acute sense of discomfort that he found himself involuntarily withdrawing. Now, it’s just another aspect of Michael that he’s learned to like.
Love, maybe. He hasn’t thought on that overmuch.
Yet here they are, holding hands like all the other couples in the park. It’s so simple, so normal. Jon’s life has been so ridiculous lately that the fact he’s holding a Spiral avatar’s nigh-impossible hand on a date in a park is just… maybe the most normal thing that’s happened so far. Michael’s not trying to kill him or throttle his mind to the point of madness.
They’re happy.
Jon’s happy.
He smiles, and so does Michael. Yes, Michael’s smile is making an attempt to summit his head like Everest before flickering back into place like he remembers where he is, but he does smile and it’s perfectly authentic.
It could be weirder, and for once, that thought delights Jon.
#prompt fill#tma#the magnus archives#jonmichael#THIS WAS RLY FUN ;w;#tried to fix the wonky mobile formatting!
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the fall part seven - the one where everyone hates marvin
basic summary: marvin struggles with morals and knowing when to stop.
trigger warnings: suicidal ideation, injury, talk of medication
tagslist: @synonymsforzombie @spicydanhowell @skyewardlight @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars @cest-mellow
the more marvin got to know anti, the less he felt he understood about him.
marvin just didn't get him. anti was a snarky asshole, sure, and he did occasionally threaten marvin with murder, and he did refuse to call him by his name, instead using the sign for "cat" when referring to him… but he also seemed so painfully human sometimes. on marvin's second visit, marvin had cracked an innocent joke at henrik's expense that made anti laugh, a real laugh that wasn't forced or mocking. and while anti immediately pretended it hadn't happened, it was still so unlike him that it completely threw marvin. not only that, but it started to make him question everything he thought he knew about anti.
he wondered about what naomi had said, about how none of them had ever been close enough to anti to understand him. none of them but jamie. of course, it had never really been an option for them to be friends - anti had made sure of that - but marvin couldn't help but wonder.
speaking of jamie, anti had actually been the first one to mention him at all, about five days after marvin's first visit. "have you seen him?" was the first thing he said.
"i - none of us have, anti. not since you drove him the fuck away," marvin said, crossing his arms. he was surprised anti was still bothering to ask. anti scowled and turned away from marvin, glaring out the window.
"i didn't drive him away," he signed grumpily. "well, i did the first time, i will admit that. but the second time was definitely on you bastards."
marvin scoffed. "oh, how? how us? you were the reason he had fucking nightmares and was afraid to cry in case we slapped him. you were the goddamn problem."
"and that's why he ran away from me," anti said. "me. the first time. i wasn't there the second time. i haven't seen dapper in like a year, kitten. did you never wonder why he left you guys?"
marvin went silent. he realized his leg that wasn't crossed over the other was bouncing rapidly, and pressed his fist down to stop it. "i… have, but i assumed it was just… memories of you." he tilted his head, just looking at anti for a moment. his hair had gotten long enough to hold back in a small bun, and he was wearing the same black t-shirt as the last few times; or what looked the same, anyway. marvin frowned. if anti cut his hair slightly shorter, changed his eye colour to grey and grew a beard and mustache, he could be jamie's identical twin.
"do you miss him?" marvin asked before he could stop himself. anti whipped round, eyes narrowed and glowing bright orange, before turning back to face the window.
"he was just my time traveler," anti signed. "my weapon. i miss him like i miss my fucking kitchen knife."
marvin figured this wasn't true, but didn't press the issue.
a couple visits later, he asked something that had been bothering him. "who is jay, by the way?"
anti visibly flinched at the question.
"who told you that name?" he signed forcefully, his hands slicing through the air sharply. marvin held back a smile.
"you did," he said, trying not to laugh as anti's eyebrows shot into his fringe. "when i came round here the first time. you were, like, hallucinating with your fever or something. you kept calling me jay."
anti stared at marvin for a second, mouth hanging open slightly. marvin giggled at the sight.
"what else did i say?" anti demanded. the tips of his ears had gone red. "tell me!"
marvin smirked, casually leaning back in his chair. "oh, loads of things. so many secrets. you told me all about your secret love for country music, and how you once had a crush on danny devito, and how you've always wanted to play the banjo -"
anti punched marvin's arm, hard enough to leave a bruise, before sinking back into his pillow, exhausted. "fuck you," he signed, very slowly. "now i know you're talking shit." he hesitated, and looked like he was going to say something else before simply signing "bitch."
marvin laughed, before a cold feeling trickled down his back. why was he laughing with this guy? this man who'd hurt his brothers so badly? most importantly, why was anti someone who could even make him laugh? why did he seem so normal?
he still didn't know why he was visiting anti every day.
he hadn't mentioned it to his brothers. not that he'd been talking to them anyway. he had tried with chase several times, but he always brushed him off. marvin was worried for him, and henrik too. really, he wished they'd just talk to him. he wished he had the courage to open up to them himself. he wished jackie hadn't left.
every time he looked at anti's broken nose and arm and many cuts and bruises that still hadn't healed, all he could think about was his brother.
everything was far too confusing these days. marvin thought that if someone had told him a year ago that he would one day be on better terms with anti than jackie, he would have just laughed.
now he didn't know what was going on anymore.
it was two weeks of dumb conversation before anti brought up what they had been avoiding.
"your brothers don't know you're visiting me," anti said. "the feeling of deja vu i'm getting is unreal right now."
marvin had scoffed, sitting back in his chair despite the sudden anxiety coursing through him. "this is different though. obviously. i'm not tor- i'm not - we're just talking."
"you shouldn't be talking with me though, should you?" anti smirked at the look on marvin's face. "your brothers would freak out. doctor especially. and jinx. i mean, to be fair, i can see why they wouldn't exactly be fond of me."
"does your hand get tired signing so much bullshit?" marvin snapped. anti's smile grew, and so did marvin's hatred for the man. "there's nothing wrong with what i'm doing. the situation is - different now."
"is it?" anti signed with raised eyebrows. "then bring your brothers round here. i'm sure they'd love to visit me, and i'm sure they'd love to see how well acquainted the two of us have been getting. jinx could tell us stories about his children, hm?" he laughed, sounding hoarse and strangled. "doctor could tell us about what he did during that two month leave he took back in 2017 when he was about to start his first real job in this same hospital. or - or, speaking of this hospital, which seems to have seen some shit, by the way, we could talk about our old friend jack -"
"shut the fuck up." marvin didn't phrase it as a request. it was a demand, and his eyes were blazing. anti dropped his hand and clasped it with his mostly plastered other one in his lap, smiling still. marvin wanted to fucking strangle him. "my brother is fucking - he's - i -" he shook his head wildly, trying to clear his head. "i don't have to explain myself to you."
anti shrugged, wincing at the pain in his arm. "fine by me. i don't care."
marvin huffed loudly, face burning with anger. "you are such a bastard!"
"why?" anti asked innocently.
marvin stood up suddenly, head rushing from the sudden movement. "fuck you. i'll see you - sometime, maybe."
he walked briskly towards the door, not stopping or looking back to see if anti was saying anything. he continued out of the hospital and caught a bus home, fuming.
he had thought about maybe even visiting jack. but he had never met the man while he was awake, despite apparently being his creation, and he'd only ever visited him with chase before. they were talking of moving him anyway; he wasn't safe so close to anti, but they'd originally had no choice but to keep him there. fuck, it was a lot to think about.
once he got home, he realized he'd forgotten his keys, so he was forced to knock. henrik answered, face souring when he saw who it was. "fuck, you again," he groaned, rolling his eyes as he walked back inside, not waiting to see if marvin would follow him in.
"love you too, henny," marvin said sarcastically, before realizing that if he was going to talk to his brothers about something this important, he shouldn't be an asshole, at least for the moment. "where's chase?"
"in his room," henrik sighed. he was crouching in front of the fridge, rummaging around looking for something. "i don't know what he's doing, maybe... filming, i think. marvin, where is my leftover kung pao chicken? i specifically wrote my name on it and everything."
ah. marvin knew where that was. too late to tell him, though. "no idea, man," he said, making a face behind henrik's back. "listen, i need to talk to you two. about - i'm gonna go get chase, actually, then we'll talk."
"fantastic," henrik grunted, knocking over a carton of eggs and struggling to hold it in his arms while also holding onto the shelf to keep everything else from falling. "can't wait."
marvin left him to his own devices, bounding up the stairs two at a time and knocking on chase's door. "hey, little bro? i have to talk to you and henrik, if that's ok. can you meet us down in the kitchen asap?"
chase didn't reply. marvin frowned and knocked again. "chaser? mi hermano, mon frère, mein bruder, min bror… i can say it in more languages. don't make me do it. come on, bastard, open up."
it was too quiet. marvin's heart was suddenly palpitating with fear, hands trembling slightly. "chase? are you ok?"
and then all he could think about was what chase had told him, the reason he'd had the gun, what he'd been planning to do. how none of them had even noticed. marvin's breath hitched, and he pounded the door even harder.
we took the gun. and henrik's here. he can't have done anything, he can't. nevertheless, marvin yelled in once more, breathing heavily with panic. "chase!" he cried. "chase, come on, open the door or i will break it down with magic, i swear i will -"
"what the fuck are you doing?" came a voice. it was henrik, holding a mug in his hands. marvin struggled to regulate his breathing, staring at him.
luckily, he didn't have to answer. chase's door clicked open, and there he was, bedhead and eye bags and all. chase ran his fingers through his blonde hair, blinking. "the hell?"
"shit!" marvin sobbed, and he threw his arms around his little brother, burying his face in his neck. chase hesitated before hugging him back, and marvin could hear him yawning into his chest.
"what's going on?" henrik demanded. "chase, are you alright?"
"just sleeping," chase mumbled. "sorry i scared you."
"scared - scared us?" henrik moved into marvin's field of vision, arms spread wide in confusion. "what is happening, why would we have been - chase, you were just napping, yes? marvin, what is wrong?"
chase pulled away and looked up and marvin, eyes silently pleading. he'd asked marvin not to tell henrik the truth about the gun, and so far he hadn't, although he felt he definitely should. marvin turned back to henrik, taking a shaking breath. "it's nothing, i'm just paranoid."
henrik shook his head. "don't you lie to me. what's going on?"
marvin could not deal with this right now. "henrik, i -"
chase stepped back, hands in the air in front of him. "listen, it was - it was all - i just -"
"i've been visiting anti in hospital!" marvin blurted out, unable to take the tension.
that seemed to work. the two brothers turned to him, identical expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces.
"you've… you've what?" henrik said softly. chase didn't say anything, just blinked rapidly, wringing his hands in front of him.
marvin winced. "guys, i… i didn't mean for it to turn into what it is. i just wanted to - to understand why -"
"have you forgotten what he's done?" henrik said. his quiet, flat tone was making marvin's heart race faster, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. "have you - he's - marvin, he is literally in the same hospital as jack. jack, our friend, mine and chase's best friend - jack who anti put in hospital, jack who anti put in a coma. have you forgotten? do you need reminded of - how, how, can you stand to -"
"i just want answers," marvin interrupted. "i don't know what else to do."
"marvin, the second he is out of hospital, he will go right back to trying to kill us!" henrik shouted without warning. his eyes were wild behind his glasses. "i don't - i don't even know what they will do once he is better, given that he's a fucking murderer, given that he's kidnapped children and put people in comas - what kind of answers do you want from him?"
"i don't know!" marvin cried. his nails dug into his palm, and to his horror, tears filled up his eyes. he tried to blink them away, taking shaky breaths. "i guess i just needed something that you couldn't give me, considering we've all completely glossed over everything that happened! it's been, what, two months since we lost jackie? and yet, not one of us is talking about what happened -"
henrik makes a noise of frustration. "you talk like he's dead -"
"he might as well be!" marvin inhales sharply, his whole chest shaking. "he might as well be dead! that's something we're not talking about either!"
"so you found solace in anti," henrik said, voice suddenly flat again. "instead of your own brothers, your brothers who love you. well done."
"'brothers who love me' - that's rich, henrik, coming from you," marvin spat. "you've never had anything but contempt for me, you hated me from the moment we met."
"like the feeling wasn't mutual," henrik shots back. he had his arms crossed in an x shape on his chest, like he was holding himself up. "like you didn't despise me too. you aren't a fucking victim here, marvin. in fact, you're - you're the only one here who's not a victim!" he barked out a harsh laugh. "i was kidnapped by that man, held in a basement scared out of my mind for almost two months, getting b-beaten whenever i tried to shout - chase's kids were stolen, he spent three weeks in prison - what about you, marvin? what has anti taken from you?"
marvin was silent, his stomach rolling. he kept eye contact with henrik, refusing to look away, and his brother gives him a cold smile. "exactly. exactly. it's enough that you rescued him when you could have just left him, it's enough that -"
"couldn't leave him to die," marvin choked out, voice suddenly hoarse. "not at jackie's hand. not at my brother's hand, my big brother who i thought would never hurt a soul - not him. i couldn't."
"tell me," henrik said. "did you enjoy seeing him hurt? would you have saved him if it had been anyone other than jackie on the other end of the knife?"
there it was. that question he had been asking himself, the question he said he didn't know the answer to. the question he did know the answer to.
"yes," marvin said quietly. "and no."
he stared at the floor, unable to watch his brother's face contort in disgust and anger. marvin's tears fell to the carpet beneath his feet.
"that's what i thought," henrik said quietly. "and that just - oh, that just makes what you're doing so much worse."
marvin shook his head, glancing back up. "i just want to understand…"
he trailed off. henrik waited, and when marvin didn't continue, he snorted. "continue whenever you feel like it."
"i want to figure out why jackie did what he did," marvin said loudly, face flushing with rage and shame. "i want to understand him, i want to understand anti, i want to -"
"there is nothing to fucking understand about anti," henrik interrupted, taking a step forward to get closer to marvin. "he's a monster. he hurts people. me and chase saw him, saw what he was like - you tell him, chase!"
they turned to look at chase for the first time since they'd started fighting, and were both surprised to see he had slumped halfway down the wall, hands covering his face. his whole body was shaking, falling forwards and backwards with the force of his breathing.
"chase?" henrik asked uncertainly. "are you -"
"shut the fuck up," chase whispered. "just shut the fuck up."
he turned and raced into his room, his hands leaving his face to open the door just long enough for them to see he was crying.
marvin and henrik were silent.
"fuck," henrik murmured. he ran a hand over his head round the back of his neck. "fuck."
he whipped round to face marvin. "this is your fault," he hissed. even through his glasses, marvin could see the wetness of his eyes. without another word, henrik turned on heel and marched down the stairs, a door slamming somewhere out of marvin's view. he stared at the space where he'd been standing, fingers numb.
his asshole marvin list just kept getting longer.
-
the next day, he decided to call naomi.
he'd made many mistakes in the past two months, but this was something he could fix. marvin sat down on his room's windowsill, curling up into himself as he clicked her name in his contacts. if he couldn't fix things with his brothers, he was at least going to try with naomi.
she didn't answer the first two times. on the third attempt, she picked up right as the dial was about to end. "pye?" she mumbled. "hey, haven't heard from you in like, two weeks."
marvin smacked his head off his knees. "i'm sorry," he said softly. "in case you can't tell, i'm kind of a coward. and, uh, i'm bad at fixing my mistakes and… being a good person in general."
"no you're not," naomi said. "i was being a dick too. i didn't realize - i shouldn't have pushed you when i know what anti is like."
marvin shifted on the spot uncomfortably. "well, i shouldn't have started yelling, and i especially shouldn't have said the word -"
"insane?" naomi finished. "it's ok. i get it, i - i would have been pissed off too if i were you."
"no, but - but anger doesn't give me the right to be a bitch," marvin protested. "i can understand where you were coming from, too, and i understand you don't know everything about anti."
there was a pause, and marvin listened to naomi breathe and the kids playing outside in the late summer sun.
"maybe we're both assholes," naomi said eventually, and she laughed quietly. "i - marvin, i'm sorry. i've not been myself."
he hesitated, tapping his foot on the floor and knocking his other knee against the window in time. "are you alright?"
she sniffed, and something clattered on the other end of the line. "at this exact moment in time? i suppose."
"what about in general?"
"i… don't know. i - fuck. i am not - i think i might be forgetting english." she giggles awkwardly.
marvin smiled, though she couldn't see it. "no, it's ok. i speak some swedish. languages man here, hello. tell me what you wanna say."
she took a breath. "allt är fel," she mumbled. "jag vet inte."
marvin took a moment to figure out what she was saying. "um… why do you think everything is wrong?"
naomi sniffed again, louder. "i don't know how to explain. i mean… it may have something to do with how i haven't taken my medication in weeks."
"you - fuck, why?" marvin cried before lowering his voice again. "naomi, it's important to keep taking them consistently so that -"
"i know," she snapped. "or… i thought i knew. then i… i started feeling worse again, and i thought it wasn't working, that i didn't need them anyway and could get better without them. i know how dumb that is, but when i'm in that kind of state…" she trailed off.
"it's ok, i get it," marvin reassured. "have you been going to -"
a loud beep resounded in his ears. he pulled his phone away from his face, wincing, only to see he was getting another call from a number he was getting used to seeing. he bit his lip and returned his phone to his ear. "nai, i'm, uh, getting a call from the hospital. i'm so sorry, can i call you back? i know how important this is, but -"
"no, it's cool," naomi interrupted hurriedly. "take it, that could be more important. i'll call you tonight." she paused. "love you, pye."
a ridiculous smile spread across his face, and he briefly clapped his hand over his mouth. "i… love you too, nai."
he could hear her giggling as she hung up and marvin answered the call from the hospital. his smile immediately disappeared, however, when he heard dr reid's distressed tone on the other end.
"marvin?" she said. "is anti with you? he - he's left, somehow. i don't understand how, he shouldn't be able to leave without - is he with you? tell me he's with you. marvin? marvin, are you there?"
-
two months prior
jackie only knew of one place to go. one person he could trust.
what was his address, again? jackie was hurt badly and barely conscious; normally, in this state, he would have gone to his friend curro for help, but marvin knew where he lived and could potentially find him there. and marvin was a traitor. traitor, traitor, cared more for anti than his own brothers. fucking pig. jackie had to stop him. had to stop him before his brothers got hurt.
his necklace was pulsing underneath his hoodie, heating up against his skin. baboom, baboom, it went. like a heartbeat. in fact, if jackie stopped moving… it was in time with his own heartbeat. what a strange coincidence. what a very strange coincidence.
street names flashed in front of him. buildings, streetlamps, lit up signs and cars and people. very dark. jackie usually hated the dark - it negatively affected his photokinesis. tonight, he loved it. revelled in the pitch black shadows that warmed his body like they never used to.
then he was knocking at a door. he was glad his new magic had teleported him so close - actually, fuck, when had he learned he could do that? how had he done that? the cold surface of the door felt nice against his face. calmed his thoughts. fuck, fuck, his head was spinning.
then the door was being pulled open and he whined at the loss of contact, clinging to the doorframe so he wouldn't fall. "jackson?" came a familiar voice. "what are you… what are you doing here?"
jackie opened his eyes, staring up at the confused blonde man standing in the doorway. without a word of explanation, he leaned forwards and pulled the man into a clumsy kiss, letting go of the frame to grab hold of his coat.
for a moment, the other man kissed him back, then pushed him off just as quickly. "dude, what - you're bleeding, you're fucking bleeding, come inside quickly. what - what happened, can you talk?"
jackie's breathing was heavy and irregular, and only wheezing gasps came out when he opened his mouth. "fuck," the other man said. "do you have your inhaler with you?"
jackie shook his head rapidly, which was a bad idea considering how dizzy he was. he took one step forward into the flat and promptly fainted, the floor rushing ever closer.
when he woke, he was no longer in the floor. jackie was laying on a bed; a familiar bed. ok, so he knew where he was. how had he gotten here? he didn't remember.
"you're awake, thank the stars," said the man, walking into the room with a bundle in hand. jackie noted hazily that his own hoodie had been stripped, leaving just his bloodstained shirt. "can you tell me what happened?"
"mm," jackie vocalized, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. everything ached, and when he rolled his sleeves up, he could already see bruises forming. he didn't dare to look at his chest, where it was definitely worse. "brothers… kicked me out, magic's going crazy, i didn't mean to hurt - didn't mean to hurt anyone, aaron, i swear -"
"shh, calm down, calm down," aaron soothed, sitting on the bed and pressing his legs against jackie's. he placed a hand on his boyfriend's face, gently running his fingers down his skin to his lips. "you're hurt. who did this? and what do you mean, your brothers kicked you out? did they find out about… about the whole black magic thing?"
jackie tried to nod, but his head hurt too much. "yeah," he managed instead. "i… aaron, i didn't know where else to… you're the only other one who knows about this."
"you're lucky i know how to treat wounds," aaron told him, dropping the bundle of clothes next to the bed. "and that i care about you enough to use my rarer magics that i save for necessary occasions."
"don't understand why you care about me so much," jackie mumbled as aaron helped him lay back down. "you've only known me, like… four months."
"ten, actually," aaron said. he pressed his lips gently to jackie's forehead, drawing a small breath out of him. "stay still, i'm gonna take a look at your chest."
"can i stay here?" jackie blurted. he blinked rapidly, trying to stop his vision from blurring. "p-please? i - i don't have anywhere else to go… i know i'm not supposed to speak with you, i know you c-could get in tr-trouble from the organization, but i can't - aaron -"
"relax," aaron murmured. "of course you can stay. i'm risking a lot by dating you anyway. if the organization found out, they'd have my head. possibly literally, depending on how they're feeling."
jackie was silent, letting aaron play with his hair. his eyes fluttered closed and he let out a contented sigh despite his current state of injury. then, "'m sorry. love you, aar… aaron, i…"
he passed out again before he could finish.
#jacksepticeye#boop writes#marvin the magnificent#chase brody#jackieboy man#henrik von schneeplestein#antisepticeye#naomi gudmundson#aaron mckenzie#the fall
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